


Rebirth

by DubDubDoubles



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Kassandra deserves the world, M/M, Phoibe lives and THRIVES, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubDubDoubles/pseuds/DubDubDoubles
Summary: Kassandra dies in the ruins of Atlantis. She wakes up in a shack on Kephallonia.
Relationships: Alexios/Thaletas (Assassin's Creed), Brasidas/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed), Daphnae/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 274





	1. Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> You know when you want to read a specific kind of fanfiction but can't find it and you get annoyed and end up writing it yourself. Thats what this is. Hope you enjoy!

“Earth, Mother of all, I greet you.”

And so, Kassandra died, finally, after two thousand, four hundred, and seventy six years of barely even living. 

Although, of course, she lived once. She once sailed the known world on the Adrestia, until Barnabas’s great grandson, named for her dear friend and father of her heart, until he himself died childless - and no longer did the ship feel like home. She never felt quite right in Sparta after Brasidias died, and once her family, Myrinne, Alexios, Nikolaus, and even Stentor passed, she refused to return. Sokrates was poisoned in Athens and Herodotus had barely been able to hold back her rage, and he too had died not long after. She served as the leader of the Hunters of Artemis but never found anything more than excellent hunting partners and a good fuck and soon she left them too, leaving Phobos’s bones at a shrine she had established at her lost love Daphnae’s grave. She had sailed past it several times, but never even stepped foot on Kephallonia after she buried Phoibe’s ashes in the remains of her old shack, before burning that too to the ground. She watched Elpidios from afar, then his daughter Neema, then her son, and his son, and his daughter, up until a masked man killed Khemu and Aya and her husband took down a mysterious order in a hunt for vengeance that reminded Kassandra too much of the Cult of Kosmos. 

But she knows the day she died even as her heart continued to beat.

It was the day that Ikaros died, the day that whatever strange magic kept her living and him through their connection failed.

He had gone for one last flight around the small island they had called home for the past thirteen years, brought down a small boar they shared for dinner, and perched for one last time on her arm, nipped at her ear, and curled under her chin as he fell asleep for the last time.

She buried his ashes in the ruins of Atlantis, knowing that she would die next to him, and prayed to gods she no longer cared for that she would be reunited with him in the underworld, whether she was sent to Tartarus or Elysium. And Kassandra wandered the earth, hundreds of times, fighting colonizers and tyrants, dictators and murderers, and swore she would never get close to anyone ever again.

She had enough people to apologize to in the underworld, Ikaros most of all.

\----

She woke to a nip at her ear and the brush of a wing against her cheek and felt herself smile as Ikaros nuzzled against her and she could feel the love and affection from her eagle in every movement. She could also feel the annoyance, annoyance she understood as soon as she heard a voice she had not heard in over two thousand years.

“Kassandra! I need you to go to Sami for me!”

The sound of Markos’s voice had her sitting up so fast she hit her head on the wooden shelf above her. She opened her eyes to find herself in a bed too small for her - in a body too small for her - in the old storage room in Markos’s home she had lived in before she finally managed to save enough to provide for herself, and kill the bandits that had lived in the shack she moved to away from Markos. 

“Tartaros it is then” she thought with a scowl, but before she could yell back at Markos, Ikaros perched on her knee, and fixed one eye on her with such feeling, such pleading, to please understand, that she swallowed the words in her throat. Her head feeling like mush, she grabbed her staff leaning against the wall and donned her meager armor and went to go do whatever errand Markos had for her.

\----

Kephallonia was exactly as she remembered it - small and shitty. It was the most beautiful place she had seen in a long, long time, especially from the top of the expensive statue of Zeus that had never belonged in Kephallonia and that she heard had fallen to ruin sometime around the time the Roman Republic became the Roman Empire. 

Because she had finally come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, the two thousand plus years she remembered were too vivid and too different to just be a strange dream or nightmare. Not even a drunk too lost to remember his own name could have come up with stories of airplanes and cell phones and the internet and atomic bombs or men walking on the moon. That alone sent her into a spiral where she wondered if she had gone mad.

She had calmed down after feeling an unfamiliar weight on her back and finding the Spear of Leonidas. She had given it to Herodotus as he lay sick, the last of her friends to pass, yet it was here. Here! Back in her hands and thrumming with power beyond that of the Staff of Hermes Trismegitus, or so it felt at least. And as she spun it in her hands, going through movements she hadn’t done in thousands of years, she felt the power she had learned come back to her. 

Kassandra could feel time slow down around her, the warmth of the spear in her hand, the raw strength in her body. She had run around the island in a state of euphoria, practically daring any bandit or thief to attack her or someone else and experience the thrill of the fight once more. She found them on the road, five bandits arguing amongst themselves, an old man dead at their feet and a woman who could have only been his wife with a knife at her throat as they rummaged through their bags. Kassandra wrapped her thin scarf around her head and felt the world turn red. 

Her spear slashed across a throat, then another, before they even knew she was there. Through the third’s eyes in the slits of his helm and she doesn’t even need her spear for the fourth, simply ripped his mace from his hands and sank it into his chest. The fifth runs, and makes it seven steps before the Spear of Leonidas buries itself in his back. It’s over in less than a minute, and she wipes the blood off on one of their tunics before turning to the old woman, as she cradles her husband’s body.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, as she kneels beside them.

“He is at peace now. Timos can rest,” the response is quiet, and she closes her husband’s eyes before turning to Kassandra, “And there are to be no apologies from you. You did what I could not. You avenged Timos, and saved me. Thank you.”

Kassandra shrugs uneasily, ready to claim she could have come sooner, when she is waved off as if the old woman knew what she was about to say, “Erinne.”

“Kassandra.”

“My dear Kassandra, you have already done so much, but I have one thing more to ask you. Will you help me bring my Timos home? Our farm is not far, but I,” she looks back down at her husband, tears welling in her eyes, “I can’t carry him on my own.”

Kassandra agrees without a moment’s hesitation, and the two gather up what they can, Erinne taking the drachmae the bandits had along with the purse they had taken from Timos. Kassandra learns that the two had been trading in Kaussos and their profits had attracted the bandits on the way home. She learns their farm had always been very small, smaller now that their son had left on a ship to find fortune. She also learns that their Belos is a “very handsome young man, very strong and kind” and that if Kassandra ever decides she wants a husband, Erinne would be happy to introduce them. Erinne tries for mirth as she teases Kassandra, but nothing reaches her eyes. 

They bury Timos beside a tree he loved and after Erinne breaks down in sobs in front of his grave, Kassandra wraps her arms around her and doesn’t leave the small home for the next week. She harvests crops and hunts and uses what little cooking skills she has to slide food in front of Erinne as the old woman sits in silence, moving from bed to chair to bed again day after day. It’s only on the seventh day that Erinne speaks again, pulling Kassandra into a hug and whispering words of thanks and praise in her ear as she cries once more. 

It’s that night she sneaks into Markos’ shack, takes the few belongings she has, and leaves a note telling him she has decided to take her talents elsewhere.

It’s that night she runs into a frantic Phoibe, smaller than Kassandra can ever imagine her being, tears in her eyes as she tackles Kassandra crying, “I knew you had to be alive! Markos said you were dead, but I knew you lived!”

It’s that night, as she wraps her arms around Phoibe in return, hardly believing that her girl is here, that she recognizes what she has been given.

A second chance.


	2. Kephallonia

Layla had asked if she wanted her spear back in the ruins of Atlantis. Having given it to the last of her friends, her dear Herodotos, as he lay dying, she had refused. She gave it to him as a way of giving up her old life, an acknowledgement that she would spend hundreds of years watching the world pass her by and knowing that love of any kind would give her nothing but pain. To take it back, even for just her last few moments, seemed to make that sacrifice worth nothing.

But she had a second chance. She had her spear again. She had Phoibe again. And most importantly, she had Ikaros again.

As crazy as it sounded, even to her, with all she had seen, Kassandra felt that Ikaros remembered the future too. He protected Phoibe as they traveled the island, barely leaving her side. When Kassandra went to Markos and said he would owe her nothing if she left with a horse, she found him already perched on Phobos’s back becoming reacquainted. And when Kassandra had heard from Duris that the Cyclops had returned to Kephallonia, Ikaros dug out the bandit’s other eye in a particularly gruesome way. Kassandra thought it more than justified.

And the second the Adrestia pulled into port, Ikaros practically dragged her to Sami, and she met Barnabas at the dock.

“Barnabas!” she called, greeting him with a smile and an arm slung over his shoulder, pulling him away from his crew, “How fares the bravest captain of the seas!”

He fixed her with his good eye, confusion obvious as he tensed up, yet still he smiled back, “Poseidon hasn’t taken me down yet, though he has tried! Though I had not realized my name was known even in this heap of rocks.”

“Let me buy you a drink, and we can toast the gods, and thank them for the gift they have given me. Because when I asked where my destiny lay, they told me to look for the Adrestia, and the great Barnabas at the helm.”

He had laughed at that, but Kassandra knew that she had caught his interest, and she would be leaving on the Adrestia with him, as she had planned.

She had been saving for over a year, and raiding the Cyclop’s lair provided more than enough drachmae to ensure Erinne and Phoibe, who she had convinced the old woman to take in, would be safe and provided for. She had a new sword and bow, bracers and light armor, and had trained two wolf pups, one for her and one for Phoibe. Nyx stood outside the tavern, Ikaros perched on her head, and Phobos tied beside them, and she introduced Barnabas to each of them, and grinned as he grew more and more interested.

Then Kassandra and Barnabas got drunk. Incredibly drunk. Then he welcomed her aboard, said they were leaving in three days, and asked for a spar when he was able to see properly again.

They passed out on the street and woke with Barnabas using Nyx as a pillow and Kassandra half in a pile of horse shit. 

\----

As before, Phoibe begged to leave with her, but Kassandra stood firm.

“Phoibe, I swear to you, on every god and Ikaros most of all, I will come back for you. But the world outside of Kephallonia is not safe right now.”

“I’ll be safe with you! No one is stronger than you, so if I stay by your side, no one can hurt me.”

Erinne had laughed at that, and said exactly what Kassandra had asked her to say, knowing Phoibe would counter with that, “The Eagle Bearer may be the greatest warrior of Kephallonia, but the world is large. Belos wrote in his last letter that he heard tales of a mercenary with a sword of flame.”

Kassandra nodded, “I may be strong and fast, Phoibe, but fire’s stronger and faster. And as much as I swear to try, I might not always be able to protect you. That’s why I’ve been teaching you the staff. That’s why I ordered that sword for you. That’s why I brought you Achilles. So you can protect yourself when I can’t, and I have to go. I have a destiny out there. I have to find my mater and bring her home.”

As before, Phoibe asked, “Will your mater like me?”

“Like the daughter she always wanted. She tried with me, but she got a wolf instead.” 

And like before, she let out a goofy howl, one that Phoibe and Nyx and Achilles joined in on. “Now promise me that you won’t try to sneak onto the Adrestia when we say goodbye?”

“Promise.”

“Good. After all, what would Erinne do without you?”

“Starve probably,” the woman in question joked, scratching Achilles behind the ears and ruffling Phoibe’s hair, “So I’ll be keeping both eyes on you in Sami.”

\----

As much as she tries not to, Kassandra cries as they leave Kephallonia. Aketes, who she learns is Barnabas’s unofficial second in command, is quick to tease her, but no less quick to let her know that most cry leaving home for the first time, “It’s the sign of joining the crew - Poseidon’s blessing. If you didn’t tear up, we would have had to throw you overboard.”

“You could have tried, you mean.”

He laughs, and goes back to petting Nyx, who after brief introductions has managed to charm the entire crew, Aketes most of all, who has a wife and dog in Kornith and claims to miss his dog much more.

“So where are we going?”

Aketes looks at her as if she is the stupidest person ever, “You didn’t ask before getting on a boat and leaving your home for who knows how long?”

“There’s adventure all over, it doesn’t quite matter to me.” 

She hears Barnabas laugh in response, and he slings his arm across her shoulder much the way she did before, “Warriors like Kassandra here need only a good fight and wine afterwards.”

“And maybe a beautiful woman,” she adds, clapping her arm against Aketes’ back with a grin before all three break out into laughter.

“I’ll stick with my dogs.”

“I thought you just had the one?”

“Nyx likes me.”

Kassandra punched him (gently) in the shoulder, but the way he winced and rubbed it afterwards prompted a quick apology.

Aketes waved it off, “Anyway if you must know, we are headed for Megaris.”

“Isn’t Megaris a war zone?” she said, doing her best to hide her surprise.

“We got a contract to deliver some cargo to a merchant there. And our employer paid enough to make us forget the war for a bit.”

Ikaros lets out a chirp of disapproval and Kassandra felt her stomach drop, “Who hired us?”

“Some merchant. Said it was important to get the goods to Megara and promised more work from his friend.”

“Name, Barnabas.” she growled, and seeing the look on his face, added “Please.”

“Elpenor of Kirrha. From Phokis, I think?”

Kassandra wanted to scream. Rage. Drive her spear through Elpenor’s heart while Ikaros tore out his eyes and Nyx his guts. But she managed to control herself.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoy!


	3. Megaris

Elpenor. The Monger. Kleon. Pausanias. Chrysis. Aspasia. 

Kassandra spent the night writing down everything she remembered of the Cult of Kosmos, in Latin in case Elpenor had placed a spy on the Adrestia. Because as much as she had planned to avoid him, he still managed to direct her to Megaris, and she expected the “more work” he promised from a friend would call for the assassination of the Wolf.

Nikalous may have been helpless to save Alexios, he may have thrown her off Mount Taygetos, but he was still her father.

After Barnabas of course.

He claimed to think the same already. Their first naval battle, two bandit ships coming from both sides, Kassandra had jumped into action, years of commanding the Adrestia coming back as if it had been days and not centuries since she last stood at the helm. She directed archers to the further threat and called for the javalins to be lit and prepares while she leapt for the closer ship, Barnabas shouts of confusion and fear disappearing in the wind behind her.

He shouldn’t have worried, the pirates were nothing to her, she who had killed the Minotaur and Medusa. Her spear cut through them as if they were flies and Ikaros ripped out eyes and scalps before they even realized she was not the only danger to have boarded.

Having dealt with the second ship, the Adrestia turned to find Kassandra cheerfully waving back at them, blood dripping off the deck and attracting the sharks below. As the crew boarded and began to rummage through the loot, Barnabas approached her, his face a mix of wonder and fear.

She gave a mock bow, “The ship is yours.”

“You fight like Athena herself, Kassandra, yet you settle for a small ship under another’s command?” 

“What have I done to deserve my own command?”

“You shout orders like a true commander.”

Kassandra hesitated - she might have gone too far. The awe was still there on Barnabas’s face, but there was fear and suspicion she had never seen before.

“Barnabas, do you swear to keep my secrets?”

He nodded.

“Then tonight, I will tell you my story, and I hope that you believe me.”

\----

Barnabas had been silent for longer than she had ever seen him, in either life. Kassandra had abridged her tale, starting with Mount Taygetos and ending with his great grandson’s death, where she claimed to have died not long after. She glossed over the trials Alethia gave her and the Order of Ancients, focusing instead on Kosmos and Atlantis, and the so-called divine duty she had been given. She spoke of people she could not have known and places she could not have seen and begged him to believe her.

“I have a daughter?”

“Leda, named for your wife. She lives in Attika and I will take you to her. After Megaris, we seek the wisdom of the Pythia. Herodotus takes us to Thermopylae and from there, Athens.”

“You speak the truth?”

“I swear on all the gods and Ikaros most of all.”

Barnabas finally nodded, and looked Kassandra in the eye for the first time since she had said “I’ve lived this life before.”

“Do you plan to tell anyone else?”

“Herodotus, if anyone. Like I thought you a father, I considered him an uncle. And I think he could understand.”

Barnabas nodded again, opening his mouth time and time again before finally whispering, “Leda. My daughter of blood,” He smiled, “Kassandra. My daughter of choice.”

She couldn’t help it, she choked up. He laughed and punched her shoulder, “So what are our plans in Megaris?”

“There will be an Athenian blockade. We destroy it, and I seek an audience with Nikolaus. The crew often has free rein in port?”

“They do unless otherwise instructed.”

“Then you will complete Elpenor’s contract and gather information. I would look for a woman named Odessa. She’s an excellent archer and seeks a life of adventure you can offer on the Adrestia. Last time, Nikolaus disappeared after we talked and Stentor blamed me for his death. I hope to change that, but keep the Adrestia ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

Their entrance to Megaris went exactly as expected. Kassandra played the part of the arrogant mercenary. She told Stentor she had been Spartan once when all she wanted was to tell him she was his sister and that Alexios lived, too. She asked for the opportunity to speak to the Wolf and regain her honor as a Spartan, and for all his mockery of mercenaries, he once again gave her his seal and tasks and a strange look in his eyes.

It was too easy. She raided and killed, her pockets growing heavy with drachmae and her clothes stained with blood. She bought a comfortable saddle for Phobos, better armor for herself, a full chicken every night for Nyx and Ikaros, and set up camp not far from the Spartan encampment.

Apparently she had become an object of fascination for the Spartan soldiers, the misthios who alone had turned Fort Geraneia into a ruin of burnt supplies and corpses in a single night, who had assassinated the Megarian leader so quietly that they didn’t know of his death until the following day, and who had fought and killed Hyrkanos in a battle that was over in mere minutes. Her campfire was visited by more and more each night, poking and prodding to hear the story of her life.

She kept it simple, “I was Spartan once, until my family was disgraced. This is Ikaros, my most loyal friend. I’m here to speak to the Wolf. I’m following rumors looking for my family.”

And most of all, “I have no interest in marriage.”

Three proposals the first night, seven the second, and thirty two after her attack on Fort Geraneia. It was very annoying.

But if nothing else, it served to spread her name. The Legend of the Eagle Bearer was apparently already written of in letters to Sparta and beyond. 

She hoped it would find its way to Myrinne and to Brasidas and maybe even all the way back to Phoibe. It easily made its way across Megaris to Odessa, who decided to join the crew of the Adrestia after Kassandra dropped the leader’s plans to dispose of her at her feet.

“I am excited to sail with the famed Eagle Bearer. A true start to my odyssey, to have such a hero by my side,” she had said, eyeing Kassandra appreciatively as Aketes welcomed her aboard and introduced Odessa to the crew. She spent the rest of the night integrating herself with the crew and flirting with Kassandra whenever given the chance.

Kassandra enthusiastically responded, but ultimately pulled herself away to speak with Barnabas.

“Stentor plans to attack the Athenian forces tomorrow. Sparta will win, of course, and with any luck I will speak to Nikolaus afterwards. Hopefully, we will not have to leave suddenly, but prepare the crew just in case.”

\----

Sparta won, as predicted, and for all the Spartan grumbling of mercenaries, her identity as a secret Spartan was enough to proclaim her the hero of the day. Athena reborn, who fought not for Athens but for the great and powerful Sparta, her blessing leading them to their undeniable victory.

As predicted, Nikolaus asked for the honor to speak to the hero of Megaris, but this time, Kassandra managed to convince the Spartan messenger that Stentor’s place was at her side, presenting her to the Wolf.

“Pater, this is the mercenary I recruited, who helped us take Megaris. The Eagle Bearer, Kassandra who was once of Sparta. She seeks honor and her family,” Stentor used the introduction as a boast, implying that by recruiting Kassandra, the victory was his. She smirked at him, before feeling her face go cold and she whispered a soft apology to Stentor before stepping forward.

“It’s been a long time, pater.”

Nikolaus’s eyes went wide and Stentor stuttered behind her, before her father whispered, “Impossible. I-”

“You threw me to my death. You stood aside as they sentenced Alexios to death and were prepared to kill me too. I remember.”

“I did what was required of me as a Spartan.”

“I know. I will never forgive you for it. But I understand.”

Stentor rushed forward, “Pater! You cannot believe that this, this imposter!” he gestured wildly towards her, “Is your daughter!”

“But I have the Spear of Leonidas and Myrinne’s eyes, how could I be anyone else?”

Nikolaus nodded at her statement, his eyes slightly wet at Myrinne’s name, and Stentor stood between the two, “Why are you here?”

“I said I was here to find my honor and my family,” she said, drawing the Leonidas spear and studied it, “I lied. I want my family, yes, but I seek revenge most of all.” 

Her eyes flickered up - Stentor enraged and Nikolaus resigned. Both knew of the bounty on the Wolf’s head, publicly posted after Kassandra rejected it just two days before. Before Stentor could even reach for the knife she knew he tucked into his armor, Kassandra spun the spear of Leonidas between her hands and put it away, her stance suddenly relaxed but her eyes no less threatening. 

“What do you know about the Cult of Kosmos?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda the last chapter before actual plot starts happening and also an excuse to make everyone else as in love with Kassandra as I am. I'm having fun writing this but am also moving so updates might be a little more sporadic - I write after playing through the missions covered so it's fresh in my memory and haven't had much extra time. I have the next chapter written so expect it sometime next week!
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy and send any and all critiques! My creative writing isn't great and I'm doing my best to improve so if dialogue sounds stiff and terrible or a passage just reads weird lemme know!


	4. Phokis

Kassandra stayed in Megaris two days longer, practically locking herself in a room with Nikalous and Stentor, only their most loyal of guards and Odessa and Aketes in the building with them. Kassandra told them her tale, albeit the abridged version she had decided to tell all but Barnabas (and possibly Herodotos). She told them she miraculously survived Mt. Taygetos and had made her way as far from Sparta as possible, ending up in Kephallonia. She claimed she began to question why the Pythia had called for the death of Alexios, the grandson of the great Leonidas and the rightful Agiad king, and had made plans to find work on a ship and make her way to Delphi to find answers. That it had been in her last days in Kephallonia, making plans to ensure Phoibe’s wellbeing, that she heard a strange businessman had come to the island looking for her. She had avoided this Elpenor, not wanting him to ruin her plans to join Barnabas on the Adrestia, when she had heard that he wanted her to assassinate the Wolf of Sparta, Nikolaus himself. Elpenor had ensured the Adrestia was going to Megaris anyway with a strange contract and had used his friend in Megara to once again try to hire her to kill her own pater.

Highly suspicious, Kassandra had snuck around Elpenor’s friend, sneaking peeks of papers and listening in on conversations and found that Elpenor knew Nikolaus was her father, and planned to hire her to find and kill Myrinne, too. That he was a member of a mysterious cult, the Cult of Kosmos, and just for good measure, she threw out that King Pausanias was another cultist, and the one who called for Nikolaus’ death.

Even if that last part wasn’t exactly true, Pausinias was a Sage of the Cult, and casting suspicion on him was a start, even if she had no proof outside her word. Yet.

Kassanda also used the opportunity of Nikolaus and Stentor trapped in a room with her to get some other things out in the air. She yelled at Nikolaus for failing to protect her and Alexios. She called Stentor an excellent commander and soldier, but told him none of it mattered outside Sparta if he acted like he had a spear shoved up his ass. She told them, with no room for argument, that she would be bringing Phoibe to the safety of Sparta as soon as she could and planned to adopt her into her family in whatever way she could. 

Then, she lied her ass off. Said she had heard Elpenor’s friend say some things, read some things, and most of all, had a feeling she had been unable to shake.

“I think Alexios might be alive.”

And for the first time since she had revealed herself to Nikolaus, Kassandra thought she saw hope in his eyes.

\----

In the end, they faked Nikolaus’ death. Kassandra took the contract and the Wolf’s helm, and Nikolaus disappeared on the Adrestia. Stentor was to go back to Sparta and wherever the kings sent him next, all while investigating Pausanias and mourning the death of his beloved father.

A week after the Adrestia departed for Phokis, Stentor and two trusted friends killed Elpenor’s friend and stole any papers that had the slightest connection to the Cult of Kosmos, just as the three had planned.

Two days later, Kassandra officially met Elpenor in Kirrha, slamming Nikolaus’ helm on the table as she entered his residence without warning, interrupting a meeting and bringing the room to a deathly silence.

“I was told you would give me a lot of drachmae for this.”

Elpenor cocked his head as he studied her with a creepy smile that made her glad she had Ikaros perched on her shoulder and Nyx protecting Nikolaus with Barnabas and Aketes on the Adrestia. He whispered to his associates before dismissing them but the two guards didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I do believe I asked for the Wolf’s head, not his helm.”

“Nikolaus of Sparta was my father. Once. For the love I once held for him, I burned his body and buried the ashes on the beach. He deserved that at least,” She pulled a chair out and sat, putting both feet on the table and pulling the half empty amphora of wine towards her, “Anyway, I feel that patricide is worth double what I was promised.”

Elpenor sat down as well, staring at her once more in that way that made her dream of watching Ikaros pull his eyes and tongue out one by one, piece by piece, “So little compassion for your dear Pater. Do you have any regrets?”

“Nikolaus threw me to my death. This contract gave me the chance to get paid for something I always planned to do. The only regret I have is that he didn’t know where Myrinne was, just that she was alive,” Kassandra forced her face into a scowl and put all the rage she felt for Elpenor into her eyes and voice, “That Malaka did nothing as they killed my brother and tried to kill me. She needs to answer for her crimes.”

“So ties of blood mean nothing to you, Kassandra of Kephallonia?” Elpenor’s eyes gleamed, and she could practically see his dream of a second Deimos. Ares and Athena, Alexios and Kassandra, fighting side by side creating fear and chaos.

“Kassandra of nowhere. Kassandra of nothing. I have no family, no friends, no purpose. Only revenge and the occasional good fuck. And Ikaros, but he’s just a bird.” 

She laughed and though she knew that Ikaros knew she meant not a word she said, Kassandra still took a second to send him a silent apology and hoped he understood. Elpenor didn’t notice the brief crack in her mask, too caught up in his dream. He blinked, eyes refocusing back on her.

He leaned forward, placing a hand on her knee and holding her gaze, “My dear Kassandra. My work has given me many opportunities and friends that I can share with you, to give you the revenge you seek and all the lovers you could want.”

She didn’t like how his hand had started to slowly slide up her thigh, but swallowed the vomit that had come and forced herself to think of Daphnae, Brasidas, Odessa, Roxana - literally anyone else - and make her voice sound ever so slightly flirty.

In her mind, it sounded more like the horrible scream of the Sphinx when it died, but Elpenor didn’t seem to notice, “I would be very interested in meeting your friends. Are they in Phokis?”

“I already took the opportunity to arrange a meeting when you first arrived. I hope you will join me tonight in Delphi. Our sanctuary is in the Cave of Gaia. You might even be able to seek the wisdom of the Pythia before joining me.” Elpenor leaned closer, and Kassandra let her face break out into a grin.

“Tonight?”

“Yes. My associates will be very pleased to meet you.” Elpenor’s hand slid its way ever so slightly farther up her leg and Kassandra let out a low whistle.

Ikaros dug his talons deep into the flesh of Elpenor’s neck as Kassandra leapt into action, spear in one guard’s neck and sword taking off the other’s head. She turned back around, and Ikaros let up, releasing the snake as he fell to the floor as if his strings had been cut.

Kassandra cut off his hands at the elbow in case he had a knife and placed her knee in just a way that Elpenor was in terrible pain but still able to talk in a semi coherent way.

“Will all your friends be there? Even Alexios?”

She moved her knee just enough so Elpenor could choke out a “How did you know?”

“When strange men come to Kephallonia looking for me, I ask questions. When they send me to kill my father, I listen. When all anyone seems to care about is my bloodline, I put things together.” She leaned forward, hissing in his ear, “Answer me, and I will grant you the mercy of a quick death. How many of the Cult will be there?”

“Not all! Many!”

“Alexios?”

“Who?”

“Deimos! Will the brother you stole from me be there?”

“Tonight or tomorrow. I don’t know!”

Kassandra pulled her knee back, and jerked her head at Ikaros. Her friend went to ensure no one was listening in and chirped out a negative.

Elpenor sat up, if one could even call it that, and begged her to kill him quickly. She sneered.

“I will. But not yet.”

Kassandra whistles once more, and Ikaros dives for Elpenor’s eyes. And as the blood splatters on her clothes, strips of flesh and a large chunk of his eye landing on her sandals, his screams turning guttural as Ikaros ripped out his tongue, Kassandra sits back down, puts her feet up, and finishes the wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past month has been crazy (I adopted a sweet pup and moved) so this is a little later than initially promised but I hope y'all still enjoy. I'm working on the next chapter so hopefully I will finish and post this weekend!


	5. Delphi

As little time they have, Kassandra takes the time to wash the blood from Ikaros’s feathers before sending him to the Adrestia with a note informing Barnabas and Nikolaus of the change in plans - none had expected Elpenor to arrange a Cult gathering so quickly. She didn’t bother with her own clothes besides flicking off the bits and pieces of Elpenor that had landed on her. 

She took the time Ikaros needed to preen and dry to arrange Elpenor and his guards - Alexios had been the one to bring Elpenor’s head to the cult before, even if she didn’t know if he was in Phokis yet.

Or Deimos, she supposed.

It was strange reconciling the Deimos that existed now in this time and the Alexios she had grown to know and love. Violent when prompted, and a killer if needed, but kind and loving more than anything, a statesman without peer in many ways and her loyalist lieutenant til the day he died. Besides Barnabas and Herodotos, Alexios was the only one she trusted enough to tell about Elpidios and maybe the only one who would understand why she had to let him go. Alexios lived a long time, just like Myrinne had. The blood of Leonidas blessed them with a long life, but not as long a life as the Staff cursed her with.

She had buried Alexios at the foot of Mount Taygetos, as he requested. He said it was where he had been made and where he wanted to rest.

But the Alexios she loved was forced to hide in this time and place, but she knew he was there.

Deep down. Deep, deep down. Deep, deep, deep, deep down.

But things were going to be different this time. Kassandra wasn’t going to meet Alexios for the first time in twenty years wearing stolen robes sharing memories with the help of a strange artifact. She was going to meet Alexios for the first time in twenty years on her own damn terms.

So she took one of the scrolls from Elpenor’s study and dipped her finger in the blood pooling on the floor and posed the bodies around the table, leaving an eagle feather and a message for Alexios.

WHAT USE DOES KOSMOS HAVE FOR A WEAPON WITH A MIND

\----

Kassandra snuck into the Sanctuary of Kosmos far before dark, finding an alcove in the cave that she could comfortably hide and see and hear well enough. She was lucky that the Cultists were so confident in their own power they didn’t even bother to whisper or disguise their voices.

She recognized some easily. The Monger, standing high above most men and with a sadistic streak she could practically smell from her hidey hole. Chrysis seemed on a high, excitedly telling anyone who would listen that her daughter was coming home and Kassandra lost herself into a fantasy of feeding Chrysis to a pack of wolves. Aspasia wasn’t there, she ultimately decided, and neither was Pausinias, both likely too ingrained in the politics of their cities to leave, but she recognized Kleon’s voice, and debated whether she would drown him again or find some other way for him to meet his demise.

The room slowly grew more and more anxious and frustrated as the night went on and Elpenor failed to show with their honored guest, but as before, the room went silent with the entrance of Deimos.

Once more, Deimos tossed Elpenor’s head into the center of the meeting, though Ikaros’s work had rendered him unrecognizable and only the mask secured to his face with a knife through the eye was any indication that the bloody lump of flesh and hair in front of them was once a member of their order.

“Elpenor is dead.”

Deimos rested one hand on his sword and glared at the cultists before him, daring anyone to speak. One did, eventually, and Kassandra wondered which one was foolish enough to actually speak up.

“And the mercenary he mentioned?”

Deimos grabbed the fool by the throat and snarled, “What was so special about this mercenary that I had to rush to Delphi?”

It was Chrysis who stepped forward, perhaps trusting that Deimos saw her as a mother enough to not kill her in anger, “My great warrior! Our friends throughout the world believe this lowly mercenary might share your blood. Even if she only has a drop, the Cult thought it was worth bringing her into the fold.”

“I am the Cult,” he growled, “Yet no one mentioned this to me before this morning.”

She didn’t recognize the next masked figure who spoke, or stammered, “It wasn’t until Elpenor sent word that we even knew she may be interested in joining us.”

“Was she to be given a choice?”

The room went silent, and Kassandra had to stifle a laugh as the cultists began to shuffle around nervously at the venom in his words. The laugh died on its own as Deimos’ eyes flickered up to where she was hiding for the briefest moment, and she curled her fingers around her spear, ready to fight her way out. 

But her brother didn’t alert anyone to her presence, instead turning around, hate masked as anger in his eyes as he glared at everyone around him. 

“So. Elpenor is dead. The mercenary missing. Many of us are still on their way. There is no reason for us to be here.”

Someone began to protest but was cut off with a roar, “GET OUT!”

They all scurried like the rats they were, not even going back for the shards of the half formed artifact. Deimos stood still, until everyone had truly left the cave, and then some time. His eyes flickered back to where she hid for another moment before staring back at the artifact. 

“I am not the weapon of Kosmos.”

“They think of you that way.”

“Then they are fools.”

Kassandra dropped down, Deimos not even turning around to look at her as she walked towards him, “Yes.”

The two stood in silence, Deimos with a hand on his sword and eyes fixed on the artifact, Kassandra ready to defend herself if needed and eyes fixed on him. Finally, Deimos let his hand fall away from the sword and let out a sigh before he spoke, sounding almost as tired as Kassandra had felt for two thousand years, “I had a dream.”

He didn’t turn to look at her as he moved to sit down, Kassandra joining him, “It was memories, I think, not truly a dream. There was a woman, with a kind face and sweet voice. A man who held me high and called me a lion cub.” He let out a small sigh that Kassandra knew from before was his only true laugh for years and years. “A girl who would poke me as I slept and rock me back to sleep in the same night.”

He finally turned to her, eyes full of hope that she was the girl in his dream, that he would magically recognize her and that maybe she could answer the questions he had. “My mater screamed on the mountain. My pater was in pain. And the girl, my sister, she tried to save me.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers, “Chrysis told me my family abandoned me. Cast me out. Condemned me to death. That it was her who found me, raised me, taught me to be strong. Her and Kosmos.”

“Who do you believe?” She finally spoke, and against all odds, he actually smiled.

Not the teeth baring snarl of Deimos, but the soft, mischievous smile of Alexios.

“Aletheia.”

\----

Kassandra left the temple thanking every god she could think for Aletheia. That wonderful bastard had given Alexios dreams that made him question Kosmos, told him that he had great destiny ahead of him, and to trust the Eagle Bearer when she came to find him. 

Thank the fucking gods.

The two had talked for a while. Alexios hated the cult, just as he had before, but with the dreams Aletheia had given him, he had known to avoid the drugs the cult slipped him to keep him compliant, and was more willing to question his captors. The eagle feather and message Kassandra left had been the final thing he needed to know that it was Aletheia who told him the truth and Kosmos who lied.

So Kassandra told him her story, or at least the story he needed to hear. That she had tried to save him and been banished for her efforts. That their pater had fought Sparta to save him every way he could. That their mater had searched the mountain and found him clinging to life and tried to save him, only for Chrysis to steal him away and tell her he died. 

Alexios had cursed Chrysis at that, but she could see the pain and confusion in his eyes that betrayed his words. For all that she tormented him, Chrysis had been the only mother he truly knew.

So she told him the good. That with Phoibe and Stentor they had another sister and brother, though Kassandra was quick to make sure he knew that Phoibe was the superior of the two. That Myrinne was alive and she had heard rumors of a Spartan woman ruling Paros that she believed to be their mother. That she had dear friends and family on a ship docked in Kirrha.

That Nikolaus was far more alive than the cult believed and was on that very ship a day’s ride away, alive and desperate to see his son.

Alexios had gone silent at that, clearly fighting with himself at her unasked question. Ultimately, fists clenched and knuckles white, he shook his head.

“He couldn’t have done anything. The cult would have killed him before he even had a chance. But he still stood aside as they sentenced me to death. I don’t trust myself to not lose control and kill him.” She nodded in understanding, “Not now at least.”

“The cult will be watching me. Watching you, too. If we were to go to the Adrestia together, they will know I am no longer their puppet,” Alexios grabbed her hands as Kassandra felt her heart sink to the depths of Hades, “I cannot leave them now.”

“So you are going to let them torture and torment you? Alexios, brother, please,” she begged him, “Come with me.”

But for all he was Alexios, he was Deimos too, and despite the pain in her voice and tears threatening to spill, he was unmoved. 

“If they know they have lost their weapon, they will come after you. Mater. Pater. Barnabas. Phoibe and Stentor. Anyone we have ever loved in this world. We must be careful.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

Alexios had grinned at that, and then the two had made their plans. He gave Kassandra names, some of which she remembered after two thousand years and some of which she had forgotten. He marked cult strongholds on a map he had brought and she wondered how long he had been planning this. He promised to lie and kill as much as he could, using his reputation as an unstable monster to his advantage. And the two planned to meet on Andros Island on the Adrestia’s way to Athens, Alexios making her swear to wait in case he was late.

After all, he hadn’t seen his pater in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the big plot twist! I wanted to give Kassandra the happy ending she deserves without changing the whole Staff storyline too much, and for that, I needed the focus to be on a bloodline and not an individual, so Aletheia helps Alexios come to his senses faster. Plus, I decided that the cult was drugging Deimos to keep him compliant, especially since I felt that once a little doubt was in his mind, he easily left. Then again, I wanted the happy family ending so the confrontation on Mt. Taygetos went well and everyone lived and gave each other a group hug. 
> 
> Next up, we see how far the Eagle Bearer's legend has begun to spread.


	6. Around the World I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herodotos is kidnapped, Brasidas is suspicious, and Myrinne hears some rumors.

Herodotus:

Of all the people he was prepared to meet in Delphi, his old friend Barnabas was not one of them. 

After all, the man was presumed dead.

But instead, Barnabas had walked up to him as he was preparing to meet with the Pythia, loudly greeted him with an arm slung over his shoulder and without using his name, and led him away before he could even realize what had happened. The second the niceties required of him as an Athenian were completed, Herodotus began to make his apologies and head back to the Oracle, promising to meet back up with him later, only for Barnabas to turn more serious than he thought the man capable of.

“The people who came before. The ones who built the temple on Andros. They are called the Isu.”

Herodotus had never told his theories about an earlier civilization to anyone, much less Barnabas, before, and was understandably taken off guard. The next thing he knew, Barnabas had somehow gotten him on a horse and the two were riding into the forests outside Delphi.

“You’ve gone mad, my friend,” he said the second they dismounted, and immediately tried to get back on his horse, “These forests are full of hunters and mercenaries and wolves!”

As if he had summoned it, the largest wolf he had ever seen came into the makeshift camp they found themselves in, and knowing Barnabas was unarmed and himself no warrior, he made his peace with the gods. But his friend merely walked up the creature and scratched behind their ears.

“This is Nyx.”

“Well named,” he managed to squeak out, and she was. The wolf had the darkest, blackest coat he had ever seen and eyes that glowed like stars. Then she yawned and Herodotus remembered how dangerous the tales painted Nyx as he was unable to focus on anything other than her teeth.

Barnabas moved to start a fire and Nyx relaxed near the horses. There were three, and the middle was one of the finest war horses Herodotus had ever seen. He admired him for a moment before everything started to add up in his head.

There had been two horses before. Barnabas had brought both with him, as if he had planned on returning here with another person. He had moved so quickly, so purposefully, and dropped such strange knowledge that Herodotus was just now realizing that not only did Barnabas know that he would be at the Oracle of Delphi, but had gone there planning to abduct him to this strange campsite with no explanation, a war horse, and lest he forget, a wolf.

Herodotus moved to ask his friend, if he still was a friend, what in the name of the gods was happening only to be once more shocked into silence as Barnabas attached a note to an eagle’s foot and sent him off with a scratch to the neck. 

He fixed his one good eye on him with a smile, “My friend is on her way. She will explain everything.”

Unsurprisingly, this neither answered any of Herodotus’s questions and Barnabas seemed unwilling to answer any that he bothered asking, until he finally gave up and the two sat in silence.

That alone was almost as strange as anything else to happen that night - Herodotus had rarely known his friend to be quiet.

The sun had just begun to rise over the mountains when the friend Barnabas mentioned arrived, and he knew her to be a friend of Barnabas solely based on how unusual she was.

She was as tall and muscled as the greatest warriors of Sparta, yet he could see a grace in her. She had clearly been running from hair that had escaped her braid, but there was no sweat or heavy breathing to prove it. She wore light armor over a short chiton and carried only a bow, but he got the feeling she could win any fight she was in. The eagle that perched on her shoulder gave him her title, if not her name.

She moved forward, caution and excitement in her face and steps. Golden eyes wide and full of power, she reached behind her back and proudly presented a spear to him.

A broken, adorned, beautiful spear that he recognized in a heartbeat.

“The Spear of Leonidas.”

The Eagle Bearer grinned.

\----

Brasidas:

Sparta mourned the Wolf.

But Stentor didn’t.

He appeared to of course, but Brasidas wasn’t a spy for nothing. He could read people, see the truth in their eyes that their words hid, and Stentor’s eyes held no pain even as he called for justice for his father and promised drachmae to anyone who came forward with any information. 

And Stentor loved his father - that was undeniable. The most repeated joke in the barracks was that Stentor would never give sons to Sparta as he was unable to love anyone more than his pater.

Yet his fellow soldiers claimed Stentor had fallen in love with the mysterious Eagle Bearer who won the day in Megaris, along with everyone else.

Most professed their love for the misthios out of admiration and lust. She was beautiful, they said, and a warrior unlike any other. She fought alongside a wolf and an eagle and rode one of the finest war horses they had ever seen. She killed the Megarian king and slaughtered an Athenian fort that same night before the Athenians even noticed she was there. 

Sparta did not like mercenaries, but the Eagle Bearer was apparently a Spartan exile looking for her mother, and that they could claim her a Spartan was enough for Nikolaus’ men to share her camp when she offered, fight alongside her without hesitation, and give her their love and respect.

Yet no one seemed to know her name.

Most had called her misthios or Eagle Bearer. Some dared call her Athena or Aphrodite. Lots remembered different names. Phoibe. Dione. Odessa. Kyra. Iris. 

But most agreed she was young, early twenties if not still in her teens. Brown hair, golden eyes, and most curiously, a broken spear. 

Brasidas knew he was no philosopher or great strategist - but he wasn’t a fool. He was a spy, and had lots of experience weaving loose threads together to find the answer.

A young Spartan exile looking for her mother, with the right look, a broken spear, and about the age - and Nikolaus had gone missing.

Afterall, it was no secret that the night Myrinne disappeared and Leonidas’ grandson killed, Nikolaus threw his own daughter from Mt. Taygeteos. 

For all the respect Sparta had for his military brilliance, many of the elders never quite forgave him for that, even though he was just following Spartan law. Since her birth, the granddaughter of Leonidas was the ultimate prize for any Spartan son, a direct line to the Agiad throne and beautiful even as a child. Every mother, every father, wanted to see their blood on the throne - Brasidas’ parents had been fighting for a betrothal between the girl and his older brother when she was not even seven, and they worried they had approached Nikolaus too late. 

It didn’t matter - Nikolaus refused them all. He loved his daughter and had no plans to marry her off. He trained her to fight until she was better than any boy in the agoge, and then set her on them. Brasidas had been a few years older, but just like everyone else, she easily knocked him over with her staff. Once Myrinne gave her the spear of Leonidas, her victories came even easier. 

Nikolaus loved his daughter, yet he had still thrown her to her death. Even Stentor, Nikolaus’ greatest supporter, avoided trying to justify his pater’s actions on the mountain.

But if Nikolaus’ long lost daughter Kassandra was the one to kill him, would Stentor truly not mourn?

The soldiers from Megaris all agreed that Stenor had met the Eagle Bearer, and was the one to enlist her help and introduce her to Nikolaus. Furthermore, the two were said to have met up several times at night after Sparta took the region, but whenever any suggested the meetings were joked about taking place between the sheets, Stentor denied it quickly, and with quite a bit of disgust. And at the first suggestion (presented by Brasidas) that perhaps it was the Eagle Bearer who took the bounty on the Wolf’s head, Stentor erupted in rage:

“The Eagle Bearer proved to be a true Spartan in Megaris. Even if she acts the mercenary, she is the last person who would have killed my pater, and were she to return to Sparta, I would be the first to petition the kings to end her exile.”

There had been almost as much passion in Stentor’s voice as if he was talking about his father, and that raised Brasidas’ suspicions as much as anything else.

So Brasidas did what he did best - he spied on Stentor.

Since returning to Sparta, Stentor had begun sending messages to Phokis and a man named Barnabas that no one had ever heard of before. Brasidas stole one before it left, and it was so menial that it couldn’t be anything but a code, and that wasn’t to mention the actual code at the bottom. Brasidas hadn’t been able to crack it and he had tried for weeks. 

He had become far more secretive, where he had always been quick to share, and only seemed to trust one man - and though he wore the armor of a high ranking soldier, Brasidas swore the man had never even been to Sparta before. 

Most interesting of all, Stentor and his new man Aketes were spying on Pausanias.

\----

Myrinne:

The ports of Naxos brought many ships and with them, tales and rumors of monsters and battles and great heroes worthy of legend. 

For the past few days though, ever since that first Spartan ship arrived, the port would speak of nothing but Megaris.

That the Spartans had won a great battle. That the Athenians were barely able to protect Attika from the growing forces at the border. That the Wolf of Sparta, her Nikolaus, had gone missing and was presumed dead.

But most of all, they spoke of the Eagle Bearer. Athena made flesh. A warrior equal to any of the great heroes of legend. A woman who took out an entire fort in a night, killed the Megarian king without notice, and won the battle for Sparta.

A Spartan exile who fought with a broken spear and an eagle at her side.

It was a tale too good to be true for Myrinne, because how could the eagle bearer be anyone but her long dead daughter?

But Kassandra and Alexios were long gone, she tried to remind herself, to keep her heart from being shattered. Kassandra died upon the rocks and Alexios soon after. 

Yet the voice in her head wouldn’t leave her alone.

‘You never found Kassandra’s body,’ it said, and she reminded herself of the wolves who prowled the base of Mt. Taygeteos to drag away the dead. She told herself that Ikaros must be long dead by now, but it said ‘Didn’t he come from Pythagoras?’ She told herself that Kassandra had very little training, and little girls on their own were not the luckiest.

But did she not know the power of the Leonidas spear herself?

So even as the rational part of her that was the Phoenix of Paros begged for her to not hope and try to forget about the rumors of the Eagle Bearer, the part of her that was mother to Kassandra and Alexios told her to question everyone who entered Paros with a tale. 

(There was no battle truly, because Myrinne was a mother even if she had thought her children dead for decades)

What she didn’t quite expect, was how few details any of the stories had. Most seemed to copy stories of Heracles and Achilles. The Eagle Bearer stood ten feet tall and could rip a man in half. She had wings of an eagle and flew into battle with a flaming spear. She had a cloak that turned her invisible and that was how she had killed the Megarian king. She fought side by side with a wolf the size of a bear and black as night.

The last one turned out to be true, in a sense, once she finally found someone who had actually met her. 

Menos was a Spartan soldier who fought under the command of Nikolaus and his adopted son Stentor in Megaris before being assigned to a ship heading east. He had fought side by side with the Eagle Bearer and had proposed marriage to her one night over wine, he said with a laugh. Phaon also asked for her hand, though he claimed to be far more sober than Menos. Ephialtes had not, despite being the only one of the three who was not already married, being ever so slightly terrified of her wolf, who was large and black but nowhere near bearsized. They argued whether the eagle’s name had been Zeus or Helios or Ikaros, and Myrinne’s heart jumped at the final option, but no one could remember her name.

So while she lectured the three boys in a way she prayed she would have never had to lecture Alexios, she heard a new voice chime in: 

“The Eagle Bearer? My mother knows her! She’s called Kassandra.”

She practically tackled the poor boy in her eagerness for more information.

Belos was his name, and he hailed from Kephallonia, though he now worked on a merchant ship to support his family farm. His mother was Erinne, his father had been Timos, and Kassandra had met the two after a bandit attack. His father had been killed, but Kassandra had arrived in time to save Erinne and had helped bury Timos. Along with the orphan girl Phoibe, who Belos proudly claimed as his little sister despite having only met the girl once, Kassandra had helped Erinne through her grief, giving her money, tending the field, and ensuring the two knew the basics of a sword.

Best of all, he had letters, and after convincing the young man that she thought Kassandra was her long lost daughter, he let her read them.

Erinne and a man named Markos wrote some, but it was Phoibe had written most of them, describing Kassandra in such vivid detail so Belos would be able to recognize her if their paths crossed, and therefore give Kassandra the letters she had written to her. Those had been harder for Belos to give her, but Myrinne had not become the leader of Paros because she backed down easily.

Phoibe’s letters to Kassandra instantly became her favorites, especially compared to Markos’ pleas for her to return and help him with his problems. They were full of love, asking her about the crew of the Adrestia (the ship Kassandra sailed on), requesting pats for Ikaros, Phobos, and Nyx (Kassandra’s eagle, horse, and wolf), letting her know how Achilles was (Phoibe’s wolf), and most of all, asking if she had found her family yet.

She had heard rumors of the Eagle Bearer in Megaris - was she able to meet Nikolaus?

Had she found any leads to her mother - and was she still sure that Myrinne would like her?

Elpenor had left Kephallonia - were his letters true?

Myrinne barely let herself believe the next words. Her Kassandra was alive - alive and looking for her - the gods had already given her a great gift.

But she read Phoibe’s next question over and over, until the words were seared into her memory.

Was Alexios really alive? Had she found him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter with a hint of world building but also reintroduces some more characters and how they're reacting to the changes Kassandra has put into place. 
> 
> Next up, Kassandra meets up with a lost love and faces a moral dilemma.


	7. The Temple of Artemis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all her plans and schemes, Kassandra had no clue how to act around Daphnae

Herodotus accepted the truth far more easily than she expected - or maybe Kassandra and Barnabas had over prepared. 

As soon as he recognized her spear, Barnabas had introduced her, “Herodotus, this is Kassandra, and I promise you that everything she says is true.”

She had been blunt, telling him that as insane as it sounded, she had lived this life before. She describes Sokrates and Alkibiades to him, and the little she remembered about Perikles. She talked to him about his family and the secrets of his past. She told him about Atlantis and the Isu, Aletheia and Pythagoras, and the Staff of Hermes Trismegistus. 

She told them some of the future, enjoying being back in the company of the two men that were more father to her than anyone else in this world. Sparta would win the war, but Athenian democracy would prevail. A man from Macedonia would conquer half the known world but his empire would fall with his death. She told them how the Roman Republic became the Roman Empire and about the greatest horsemen and archers she had ever known: the Mongols. She apologized to Barnabas for lying before and spoke of the Order of Ancients, and the organization her descendent had created to stop them. There were lands thousands of miles across the sea, the Americas and Australia, that remained unknown by this side of the world for hundreds of years. The technology and history too - guns and telephones and cars and planes and humanity walking on the moon!

Kassandra told them they were the only ones she truly trusted, then and now. That she had withdrawn into herself when Herodotus died. And now that the three were together again, she was ready to change her fate.

She sounded mad, she knew, but Herodotus and Barnabas believed her, and swore to help her. And suddenly, all the changes she planned to make finally seemed possible. 

\----

Even with the added reassurance of Herodotus, it took Kassandra another week to go ride north to the Temple of Artemis.

To Daphnae.

Kassandra had many lovers through the years, but there were two that she had truly loved and two that she lost forever.

Daphnae was witty and beautiful, quick with her bow and a joke. It was because of Daphnae that Kassandra had fought beasts of legend and the Adrestia so often docked in Phokis and Malis. Their flirtation had turned to love so easily, and Kassandra was a common sight at the Temple, even without a pelt slung over her shoulders. She had learned to tame wolves and lions to fight alongside her, shoot in ways sacred to the Daughters of Artemis, and had found family in these women, some even joining her on the Adrestia. Daphnae taught her their stories, their beliefs, and Kassandra wouldn’t lie and say she never considered becoming a hunter to be with her. Afterall, it was easy to love Daphnae, and she knew Daphnae returned her love.

Love had never been so simple for Kassandra. There were no politics involved or family to return to, no uncomfortable history or jealous lovers to contend with. It was just the two of them, sharing smiles as they hunted and kisses in the night.

Then Daphnae had invited her to Chios. Told her that the Daughters of Artemis needed her. That the goddess herself needed Kassandra. And that it was Kassandra’s duty, her destiny, to kill Daphnae and take her place. 

Kassandra had never been able to deny Daphnae anything, so when she begged Kassandra to kill her, she did.

It was one of her greatest regrets.

So Kassandra sat high in a tree, the pelt of the Kalydonian Boar across her shoulders, watching Daphnae at her fire, happy, beautiful, and alive. She stayed there for hours, until the fire had dimmed to embers and her love had finished her meal and crafted her arrows, and debated whether or not to go to her.

Give her the pelt as an offering to Artemis and leave before Daphnae could give her the mission or drape the pelt over her as she slept and disappear into the night?

Before she could decide, Daphnae made her choice for her: “Are you going to stay in that tree all night?”

Kassandra would never admit she fell rather than jumped off her perch, but the small smirk on Daphnae’s face told her she saw her slip. It fell as her eyes widened upon seeing the pelt on her back.

“So you are the one who killed the beast? My sister had found the creature dead and skinned but none of my hunters claimed the kill.”

Somehow the words managed to come, “I was unsure whether bringing the pelt as an offering to the goddess would be seen as an insult to the prowess of her hunters.”

“Beautiful words from a beautiful woman,” and Kassandra was unable to keep from blushing, Daphnae smiling in amusement before continuing, “It is rare that the Daughters of Artemis are given any respect. We are seen as no better than the Followers of Ares, a bloodthirsty cult preying on the weak.”

“You are no cult.”

“An unusual view. Tell me - ” 

“Kassandra.”

“Kassandra, how does a mercenary come to the Daughters of Artemis with the respect and honor we deserve?”

“I once thought to join you, but my fate lies elsewhere.”

It wasn’t a lie, nothing she said was, but Kassandra couldn’t help but feel that the admiration in Daphnae’s eyes was ill-gained. That she was manipulating her love, lying and misleading her until she fell back in her arms like she had long ago. 

It made her feel like Aspasia, and she realized she could never be with Daphnae the same way she had before.

This wasn’t Barnabas and Herodotus, she couldn’t just tell Daphnae that she knew she loved fish despite eating venison most nights and woke early each morning to watch the sunrise. She would think her mad, a spy and stalker, and declare her an enemy of the Daughters of Artemis, and that was only if she didn't try to kill her immediately. 

“Misthios, did you enjoy your hunt?”

Kassandra pushed her sadness down, “The boar fought unlike I’ve any seen before. To kill such a beast was a great honor.”

“As a reward for our devotion, Artemis brought great beasts to our lands, like the one you slew, as a challenge for the greatest hunters,” Daphnae circled Kassandra, sizing her up, “The Daughters of Artemis know only rumors of these great creatures, but if you wish, I will share our secrets with you.”

“Why?” Kassandra questioned, despite knowing exactly why Daphnae offered such information, “I cannot join the Daughters of Artemis. My fate lies elsewhere.”

Daphnae’s annoyingly perfect mouth finally stopped smirking at her, turning into a scowl that few would have noticed - but Kassandra had loved and lost her, and been tormented by memory for thousands of years.

“Misthios, for hundreds of years, no hunter, let alone any of my sisters, has managed to take down any of Artemis’ beasts. Hundreds have died in front of my own eyes trying to slay that boar, and you come bringing it’s pelt as an offering,” Daphnae’s fingers clenched and twitched before resting on the knife at her belt, “You claim to respect us, but you dismiss your calling from the goddess without a thought. You killed the boar,” her hand began to draw the knife, “Kill the others, and by the rules of our order you are destined to lead the Daughters of Artemis. So, tell me,” she drew the knife and examined the blade with eyes fixed on Kassandras, “Where else could your fate lie?”

“I am the lost granddaughter of King Leonidas. My father is hunted, my mother exiled, and my brother, the rightful king of Sparta, was stolen by the Cult of Kosmos. I seek justice and revenge for my family and all families torn apart by the cult.”

Whatever Daphnae had expected, that wasn’t it, and the challenge in her eyes disappeared as the knife in her hands practically fell from her hands in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, I planned for Kassandra to rekindle her relationship with Daphnae (the best canon romantic relationship IMO) within their first meeting, but as I wrote I started worrying that with the knowledge of her past life, Kassandra had an unfair advantage over Daphnae and would ultimately come to the same conclusion. 
> 
> The way I see it, Kassandra only told Barnabas and Herodotus because she knew that with some convincing, they would believe her - plus she needed someone to lean on. With Barnabas, she needed his complete trust and the Adrestia, and with Herodotos, she needed his connections in Athens, and by killing the Cyclops before canon events in this story, she had already changed too much to trust that the close friendships she had developed with them would happen as they had before. And while I decided Barnabas, who 100% believe in stories of gods and monsters, signed the adoption papers that day, Herodotus is going to take some time to be the uncle I head-cannon him as. 
> 
> But when it comes to other relationships, especially outside her family, I can see Kassandra feeling like she is manipulating them, even when she doesn't mean to. And this feeling only intensifies with romantic relationships - so Daphnae and Kassandra only flirt a little here. 
> 
> My two Odyssey ships are Kassandra/Daphnae and Kassandra/Brasidas, even when I play as the biggest ho in Greece, and both will feature in some way or another in this story, although I haven't decided which will be endgame. Both Daphnae and Brasidas will feature more prominently throughout this story from now on too, so you'll be seeing a lot more of our favorite Huntress coming up!
> 
> Next up, Nikolaus comes up with a solution for Kassandra's PR problem and tries to redeem himself to his daughter.


	8. Thermopylai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikolaus has a lot of regrets, understands the importance of reputation, and loves Kassandra.

In her first life, Kassandra had been consistently surprised as to how many people knew her story, especially growing up in the boonies of Greece on Kephallonia.

But Leonidas was a hero to all the Greek world, not just Sparta. He had held off the Persian army with just three hundred men and would have lived if not for the traitor. Even now, with Athens and Sparta at war, even the Athenians and their allies wouldn’t dare insult Leonidas too harshly. 

His people, on the other hand - easy target practice.

Especially once people learned that Sparta had thrown the only grandchildren, a young girl and a baby boy no less, off of Mount Taygetos. 

Kassandra had friends on both sides of the war, and the tragedy of the bloodline of Leonidas was often brought up to justify the actions of both sides.

The Athenians claimed all Spartans vicious brutes no Greek child was safe from - after all, they told her, as they themselves slaughtered villagers who sold supplies to Sparta, didn’t they kill the grandchildren of their own great king?

The Spartans claimed that the Athenians were weak and would destroy civilization, and only Spartan rule could save Greece, - after all, they said, as they burned through town after town, they had sacrificed the grandchildren of Leonidas to keep Sparta strong, and weren’t they only honoring their sacrifice?

Fuck them.

Fuck them all.

Kassandra had spent years making sure everyone in Greece knew what complete and utter bullshit all those excuses were, and eventually the story of Leonidas’ bloodline faded until the only thing history seemed to care about was the Battle of Thermopylai - and Kassandra had made sure that every book, play, or movie that mentioned Leonidas ended with Leonidas. 

But then she woke back in Kephallonia, and learned from her mistakes. She was careful with her identity - she gave false names to every Spartan in Megaris and only Barnabas and Aketes knew her heritage on the Adrestia, and Aketes was only told when Barnabas asked him to go to Sparta with Stentor. She changed her mother’s story when asked - she lost her mother in Kornith after they were banished from Sparta after her father’s death in battle. 

Daphnae had been the only person outside of the Adrestia or her family that she had dared tell that the Eagle Bearer was the long dead granddaughter of Leonidas.

She had been surprised how easily that little tidbit smoothed things over with Daphnae.

The Daughters of Artemis stayed out of the conflict between Sparta and Athens, but Daphnae promised that if the Eagle Bearer needed help, her sisters would be there for her.

And most importantly, Daphnae would live.

Kassandra would kill any beast, mercenary, or challenger to keep her safe - she couldn’t be with her love the same way as before, but she could do this one thing for her.

\----

It had been Stentor that first brought to attention her allegiance, and for all her planning, she had no answer.

How could she have not thought of it? She had spent hundreds of years watching how a reputation and a name could turn anyone into a hero or a villain, she had spent hundreds of years protecting the legacy of her grandfather when history seemed determined to call Spartans brutes, she had influenced assassinations and turned ordinary men and women into legends with a whisper here and a punch there. 

So she had ranted about her stupidity to Barnabas and decided to listen to Nikolaus.

It was decided that the Eagle Bearer would fight for Sparta in this war, loud and proud.

And when it came time to fight against Pausanias and his allies, the Eagle Bearer would vanish, and an unknown assassin would take her place in the night, silent and deadly, and be gone by first light.

Nikolaus had promised to take charge of her reputation, and so far things had gone well. She had ridden from Phokis to Malis, and the Eagle Bearer was popular among not only the Spartans but even the villagers she spoke to.

The Eagle Bearer fought to reclaim her honor and find her mother. She helped all who needed it, and always charged a fair price if she charged any. She fought for Sparta, but was still a friend to Athenian foot soldiers - they weren’t her true enemy.

And then there were tales of a phantom, a ghost. A beast who stalked in the night and tore the wealthy Elpenor apart in his own home. A monster who had broken into a Spartan camp and stole countless letters and plans from the two kings. An assassin who slit the throats of eleven soldiers in the abandoned Snake Temple and mutilated the bodies.

Nikolaus had even managed a name for this mercenary, the Arai, after the spirits of curses and hatred of Tarteros, and spread rumors of her appearance and story. The beast used daggers dripping with poison and was shrouded in all black. She supposedly worked for a wealthy man in Euboea with dreams of power, and killed only those her employer named.

Kassandra wasn’t surprised when Nikolaus presented her with dark armor and two poisoned daggers in Thermopylai, but the fine armor with eagle iconography took her by surprise.

“When Sparta began to call me the Wolf, the kings presented me with my helm to honor me for my success in battle,” he had said, pushing it towards her, “and you, Kassandra, are far greater than I could ever hope to be. It is only fitting that you have armor worthy of the legend you will become.”

It was perfect, truly. Nikolaus hadn’t given her the heavy metal armor most preferred but the light leathers she had worn almost exclusively since meeting the Daughters of Artemis in her first life, and since waking up in her second life. The chiton was a pale gray with golden embroidery at the hem peeking out from under the pteruges, each of which was adorned with a faint etching to look like feathers. The hooded scarf was Spartan red with the same gold embroidery as the chiton, giving the slight impression of laurels resting on her brow when she wore the hood. The belt was simple but she appreciated the pockets and pouches sewn on, and the leather vest was similar, but the true star was the pauldron he had ordered for her.

It was less a pauldron and more a second layer of armor for the upper side of her body, and made of thick leather and bronze. It was gold plated and designed to look like eagle wings, and she loved it instantly.

Ikaros approved too, settling on top and picking at the scraggly fur that cushioned the pauldron on her shoulder, “The mane from one of the lions I hunted years ago, when you and Alexios were born,” Nikolaus explained, “I kept their pelts in my tent on campaigns and brought them with me when we left Megaris. You two are the grandchildren of Leonidas the Lion, and I had always planned on giving you armor that honored your family,” He had smiled shyly, and more than a little sheepishly, “I wanted to keep that promise, even far too late.”

Kassandra felt more than a little touched, but she choked up at the next gift - a lion tooth necklace she recognized as her mother’s.

“Leonidas made this for Gorgo, who gave it to Myrinne, who planned to give it to you.”

That she had left it when fleeing Sparta, grieving the daughter he had thrown to her death, remained unsaid.

He put it on her and took a step back to look her over.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and she could hear the emotion in his voice, “A true queen and hero from head to toe. Myrinne will recognize you on sight and Kosmos will regret ever crossing your path.”

“Athena herself!” Barnabas said, clapping Nikolaus on the shoulder, and with a jolt she realized she had forgotten about Barnabas and Herodotus, who had gone with Nikolaus to meet him in Thermopylai. She grinned at them, ready to retort as she normally did, when Nikolaus cut them all off.

“No. Kassandra the Eagle Bearer. Not even Athena compares.”

Barnabas had quieted, looked at the regret on Nikolaus’ face and heard the pride in his voice, and nodded with the first semblance of respect and approval towards him he had shown in either of Kassandra’s lives, and agreed.

“Kassandra the Eagle Bearer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that after realizing the power of the Cult of Kosmos and how they had planned from the minute he was born to steal Alexios for their own use, Kassandra sort of forgives Nikolaus for that night on the mountain - because really, what could he have done without dooming Myrinne and Kassandra to death alongside him for disobeying Sparta? IMO, he kind of breaks that night and adopts Stentor to do right by at least one child, and despite his words when he meets Kassandra again in Megaris, he fully expects and accepts that she's going to kill him in revenge, and when she doesn't, he takes it as a chance to redeem himself as a father, even if it means abandoning Stentor. So I tried to keep him on the same emotional path while also smoothing things over.
> 
> But let's be real, Barnabas is Kassandra's true dad, and Nikolaus knows it. He's hoping for step pater rights at most.
> 
> Next, Alexios throws his father off the Adrestia.


	9. Andros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexios throws Nikolaus overboard, the grandchildren of Leonidas reconnect, and we get to see a little of what Alexios is thinking.

In the end, it was decided that Nikolaus would stay on the Adrestia at first while Kassandra met with Alexios at the entrance of the Isu Vault.

After he had given her such beautiful armor, Kassandra wanted to ensure the worst Nikolaus got from Alexios was a few bruises, and not a sword in the heart, and figured it was better to see how angry he was before reuniting the two. She ended up being glad she had gone alone, not because Alexios had slipped back into Deimos, but because her brother was so on edge that she was the only one who could have survived the killing blow he sent her way before realizing it was here.

“Malakas, Kassandra, I almost took your head off!” He said, dropping the sword as soon as she had called him an idiot and he recognized her voice. He looked awful, covered in blood and pale faced, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his skin and bags wide under his eyes, and Kassandra’s next three insults died in her throat as she plopped down next to the fire.

“What happened, Alexios?”

He had laughed at that, even if it sounded more like he was being strangled, and picked up his sword before collapsing next to her.

“I told Kleon that I wanted to stop at Andros to see the Chimera on my way to Athens, and as far as the Cult knows, my ship never arrived.”

“You killed them?”

“I asked if any wanted to leave. I snapped the captain’s neck and told the crew they were free if they rejected Kosmos. Then they attacked me and I killed them all. Everyone except the slaves.”

“Where are they now?”

“I sunk the ship off the coast of Skyros after they divided all the treasure and drachmae amongst themselves at port. Then I set them up at a cultist house on the island. We will need to take down his ship upon leaving the island. Then I stole a skiff and made my way here.”

She looked him over, silently asking about the fresh blood staining his clothes and he snorted, “Then I killed the Chimera and her men and burned down their camp and set up my own here.”

“When did you arrive?”

“Just a day before you. You want some wine?”

“Always,” she took a drink from the amphora he offered, “You’re missing your fancy armor.”

“And you gained some,” he laughed, more of a true laugh this time, “if the cult looks, they’ll find it with the remains of my ship just north of Skyros. I made the wreck rather obvious.”

He took the wine back from her, taking a long drink before saying, “I like the eagle imagery - very appropriate.”

“Thank you,” she paused, waiting until he had swallowed his next drink before adding, “Nikolaus ordered it for me.”

His eyebrow twitched and his fist tightened, but other than that, he remained calm. “And where is our Pater?”

“He stayed on the ship.”

“Couldn’t face me?”

She swatted his shoulder and he cracked a small smile, “He desperately wants to see you, but he agreed to keep his distance until you came to him.”

“He does know I’m going to hit him?”

“He said you could kill him and be within your rights, but I did promise Stentor to return him to Sparta alive.”

Alexios grinned at that, and she could see a bit of Deimos in the way he bared his teeth, “Our pater won’t die by my hand, but I might throw him overboard if you want to run ahead and tell him to remove his armor.”

\----

True to his word, Alexios threw Nikolaus off the back of the Adrestia before jumping afterwards to punch him in the face. So Barnabas, Herodotus, and Kassandra sat on the sand and watched Alexios yell at Nikolaus, far enough away that they couldn’t hear, while the rest of the crew relaxed at the camp they had set up, far enough away to respect the complicated family’s privacy.

Finally, Alexios wrapped Nikolaus in a big bear hug and the two stood there for a long time before he dragged him back to the beach to Kassandra. Alexios had clearly been crying and Nikolaus had a broken nose and what was sure to be two magnificent black eyes, and the two were laughing about something.

She soon learned it was about the countless declarations of love and proposals of marriage Kassandra had received in Megaris. Apparently Nikolaus had already been uncomfortable with the comments made about the mysterious misthios in the camps but had gone ballistic upon finding out that said Eagle Bearer was his own daughter. 

Nikolaus had mentioned the punishments and torments he had set upon his soldiers in case Alexios needed ideas for further revenge against him.  
The five set up their own small camp and spent the rest of the night making plans for their visit to Athens but once the conversation had turned to politics and the war and a somewhat heated discussion between Nikolaus and Herodotus about Sparta and Athens, Alexios leaned over to Kassandra and asked her to walk with him.

She quickly asked Barnabas to inform the other two once they were no longer at each other’s throats and the two siblings left, walking until they were far enough away that neither camp could hear, and Alexios turned and drew his sword.

“I need to fight something.”

She unsheathed her weapons and grinned, and the two began to spar.

His sword blocked by her spear, her knife barely catching the cloth of his chiton, back and forth they went, until finally, Kassandra had a wonderful, amazing, life changing idea, and swept his legs out from under him and ripped his sword out of his hands.

“I have an idea.”

\----

Alexios followed Kassandra back to the Isu temple, suggesting such a futuristic temple might have futuristic weapons, and both the two boosted their weapons with ancient Isu power. Then they snuck back on the ship and borrowed Nikolaus’ armor for Alexios, and then Kassandra led him to Steropes the Cyclops.

She let Alexios take the lead, only stepping in when it seemed he was about to fall, as rare as it was he lost the upper hand, and let her brother scream himself hoarse at the beast, releasing years of anger and rage at Nikolaus, the Cult of Kosmos, and the tragedy of his life itself, until finally, he brought the monster to its knees and sunk is sword to the hilt in its neck.

He stumbled away from the body, leaving the sword in, and began to laugh. And cry. Mostly crying, to be honest.

She went to him as he collapsed, and his arms instinctively went around her and she did the same. And so the two grandchildren of Leonidas sat next to the body of a beast that only gods could kill in water turning red with blood, holding each other close, and Kassandra closed her eyes, thinking that everything was going to be okay.

And in that moment, they were okay.

\----

Alexios:

After the second night the Adrestia had docked off Andros Island, Alexios had spent two days talking with his father, sparring with his sister, drinking with Barnabas and discussing politics with Herodotus - and he couldn’t imagine how he had survived without them. 

He also found it more than a bit ironic that the first thing he had actually done worthy of legend and awe, the thing that Kosmos always promised him, happened within a week of actually breaking away from the cult.

He killed a cyclops. A CYCLOPS. A one eyed giant only spoken of in stories and myths that he had never believed in.

He had fought that cyclops with his sister, and somehow, fighting alongside Kassandra was even more legendary than the cyclops. She was a far greater warrior than him - he could see it in the way she moved both while in and out of a fight. 

She had ended their first spar when she remembered the cyclops and held back so he could take out his anger on the beast: she was very obvious about it and Alexios was no fool.

He couldn’t be angry about it though, or even jealous, because she had far more experience than him.

After all, she had lived this life before.

He hadn’t been sure about that until he asked Aletheia, but he had his suspicions from their first conversation in the Sanctuary of Kosmos.

Kassandra knew things she shouldn’t have, names, places, people. There was no fear in her face when he told her the extent to which the cult had infected the world, no surprise when he told her Pausinias was a traitor to Sparta, no anger when he told her Kosmos was hunting their mater. No true feelings, at least.

He’d admit, she was an excellent actress. She gasped when appropriate, let her eyes go wide in fear, and ranted when necessary. And the lies she spun were certainly believable to anyone who wasn’t an integral part of the cult.

Maybe seven people in all knew where Pausinias’ true loyalties lied, and Alexios knew none of them would have trusted Elpenor with such a secret, let alone a random merchant in Megaris. 

Then on Andros, she knew how to enter the strange temple, how to activate the forge and fill her spear and his sword with a power he couldn’t even begin to understand - but he’d bet his life she knew. And she knew exactly where to go to find the cyclops, claiming to have done some scouting on the island as if Alexios hadn’t watched her dive off the Adrestia and make her way directly to his fire the second the ship came into view.

She had made her way to him faster than he expected, however, and in his own paranoia, he had almost taken her head off. Or tried to at least. He doubted he could ever land a blow on Kassandra that she didn’t allow him too.

He was just thankful it was her, that Nikolaus had stayed with the ship, and that it wasn’t Kosmos coming to reclaim him, having seen through his ruse.

He had left suddenly, after all, not like he and Kassandra had planned. His break with Kosmos wasn’t to happen until after they went to Athens and found the location of their mater, a location Alexios suspected Kassandra already knew. He was to take out Kleon if he could and meet them on Keos.

Then Alexios had received orders to track down and kill the Eagle Bearer, following a meeting with Chrysis, a meeting he suspected was to be more torture than anything.

What can he say? He panicked. Faked his death, sunk a ship, etc, etc.

And thankfully, neither Kassandra nor Nikolaus asked any questions after he told them the orders that forced his hand. 

He didn’t tell them, not even Kassandra, about the visions Aletheia had given him. What Chrysis’ torture could do to him. The monster he could become. 

He killed an old man and a young girl within minutes of each other without a thought. He bashed heads into walls until what once was a person with a name and a life was only a pile of brains and bones and blood. He slaughtered men on the field of battle, using their own weapons against them with a feral grin, and laughing as their friends and lovers screamed in rage. He tried to kill his own sister countless times and murdered his own mother on a mountain.

So he ran.

Scared, no, terrified of what he could be in this life and horrified that he must have been that monster in the life Kassandra knew before.

Yet she trusted him, loved him, and he ran to her and swore he would never leave her again. He fought at her side and wove messy braids in her hair and refused to ask her who she had known before - Deimos or Alexios?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly filler tbh, but now Kassandra has her brother by her side - the Arai were a group of spirits after all.
> 
> And Alexios knows that Kassandra has lived this life before, but doesn't want to know who he was in that world. Initially, I had him confront her after killing the Cyclops but ultimately, it felt out of character for the Alexios of this story. Not to say that he'll never bring it up though!
> 
> Next up, Kassandra rants about the patriarchy and is once more forced to wear a dress in Athens.


	10. Athens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra meets Aspasia
> 
> (Please read the notes at the end!)

She didn’t know who was more tense as they dropped anchor off the coast of Athens. 

Nikolaus, the famous and revered Spartan general who was presumed dead, or Alexios, missing fugitive from Kosmos and Athenian politicians Kleon and Aspasia.

Barnabas ultimately won the bet when Nikolaus begged both Alexios and Kassandra to stay far away from Athens, fearing for their lives. Kassandra and Herodotus had both assumed it would be Alexios who would break first, as he would actually be leaving the ship.

After all, the Arai were a group of evil spirits, and what better way to ensure no one suspected the Eagle Bearer when the Arai attacked an Athenian fort and a rich artist’s son the same night Kassandra found her way into Perikles’ symposium. 

So Kassandra tossed Barnabas a coin, promised to return with a skiff the next morning for Herodotus, and dove into the water and swam to shore. The plan was to watch the fort Alexios was going to target later and search for weaknesses. 

And if her spear happened to find itself in Kleon’s skull, then that was clearly fate.

\----

Unfortunately, she was unable to run into Kleon, and so she borrowed a boat and picked up Herodotus and the tag along Alexios, ranting about the Athenian society that kept her armor on the ship and only her spear at her waist.

Most of all, she was angry about the dress she had to wear to blend in.

She wasn’t angry at the dress itself. It was one of two she had bought in Malis, both sleeveless, belted, and falling just below the knees with slits to allow movement. She even liked the subtle florals on the light green, though she did prefer the pattern of the red dress.

No, it was the audacity of men to believe they had control over what a woman could wear. 

She had hated it the first time she had been forced to change for the comfort of men at Perikles’ symposium and she had hated it until the day she died.

She did love that suit.

So she grumbled as Alexios teased her, wearing bits and pieces of her Arai armor no less, until he dove off the boat so just Herodotus and Kassandra, or Dianthe as she would be introduced as, would arrive in Athens without even the suspicion of bringing an assassin along with them. A strange woman arriving in Athens in the middle of a war was suspicious enough, especially with Herodotus bringing her straight to Perikles.

As before, Herodotus and Kassandra met Perikles during a speech, though Kleon wasn’t there this time to turn the crowd against the old statesman, and while scared about the war, Athens seemed to appreciate Perikles in a way she had never seen before.

“Herodotus! Good to see you old friend,” Perikles said when the two entered his presence, “What did the Oracle tell you?”

“Lies. The Oracle is compromised, controlled by a mysterious organization.”

The statesman’s eyes narrowed, “Explain.”

“She is heavily guarded, and consults with a mysterious man before announcing her prophecies. They hold her sister prisoner, and the same guards that keep her hostage come after pilgrims asking too many questions,” and here, as rehearsed, Herodotus gestured to Kassandra, “I barely escaped with my life.”

Kassandra awkwardly bowed, “Dianthe. Of Kephallonia.”

Herodotus continued, “Dianthe sails with my old friend Barnabas, and we ran into each other by chance. She saved my life.”

“Thank you for saving my dear friend, Dianthe of Kephallonia. If there’s anything I can do to repay you, name it.”

“You are too kind, and I do hope you can help me,” she said, as Herodotus led them both away to Perikles’ residence, “I lost my mother when I was just a child. I was born in Sparta and we were exiled following my father’s death. We ran into bandits and were separated in Korinth. I’ve heard you have connections in Kornith and was hoping they could possibly help.”

“My deepest apologies for your loss, child,” Perikles said, studying her carefully, “but I must ask, do you have any loyalties to Sparta?”

“I just want to find my mother.”

He nodded, “My ward has many connections in Korinth, as does my Aspasia. I can arrange for you to meet with them.”

Kassandra nodded, shooting a subtle look towards Herodotus. She needed to make her way into a symposium.

“Perikles, are you hosting a symposium soon? I don’t know how long I will be staying in Athens and would greatly enjoy seeing our other friends.”

Subtle, Herodotus, subtle.

It took all her willpower to not say that outloud as Perikles nodded, informing them that yes, Aspasia had planned a gathering in only a few days, if he would still be in the city.

Thankfully, Herodotus was more subtle this time, asking about who else was invited, the situation in Athens, how Aspasia was, and so on and so on.

Upon hearing that Alkibiades would be there, as long as he had sobered up from his raucous party held just last night, Herodotus dared asked if his friend Dianthe could come. If Aspasia and Alkibiades had any leads on her mother, it couldn’t hurt for her to ask the finest minds in Athens for more information.

It took much debate about the appropriateness of inviting a foreign woman to such a prestigious event and an increasingly more insistent Herodotus, but Kassandra, or Dianthe, found herself invited to Perikles’ symposium once more. 

\----

Kassandra didn’t know how terrified she had been that she would find Phoibe in Athens until she knew for sure that her sister had never entered Aspasia’s service.

She had spent the day before ensuring that Phoibe wasn’t one of the orphans wandering the streets or worse, dead or enslaved, and found no information. Then when she was whisked away by servants to clean herself up for Aspasia, she asked some more, and let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding since she had left Kephallonia when she heard that Aspasia had hired a pair of brothers to act as her personal errand boys.

Knowing that Aspasia would never sink her claws into Phoibe made meeting the woman far easier. She ran the risk of Aspasia recognizing her, but both were against the Cult of Kosmos, at least how it was presently.

She would never forgive the woman for what happened to Phoibe but perhaps they could be allies of a sort in this life.

“Dianthe, was it?”

Aspasia was as beautiful and elegant and dangerous as Kassandra remembered, and the misthios stood and smiled, awkwardly bowing to her, “Yes, my lady.”

“Just Aspasia. You saved our dear Herodotus, after all. Now, Perikles said you were looking for your mother. I’m assuming that’s why you went to Delphi?”

“Yes. I was born in Sparta, but my mother and I were exiled. I last remember being with her in Kornith, but how we were separated is blurry. I was very young - I don’t even know my mother’s name and I worry I’ll forget her face.”

Aspasia nodded and studied her - Kassandra had no doubt that she thought her story full of shit, “Where were you before you went to Delphi?”

“I grew up in Kephallonia, working odd jobs across the island until I found work on a ship. We were contracted to deliver cargo to Megaris and I spoke to a Spartan general, but he couldn’t give me much information. We went to Phokis and I met with a merchant named Elpenor. He said he knew people who could help me and promised to set up a meeting,” Kassandra lied, watching the slight tensing of Aspasia’s face at Elpenor’s name, “He never showed and a few days later I heard he was dead.”

Aspasia was clearly surprised by that, “Elpenor is dead?”

Kassandra nodded, “Did you know him?”

To her credit, Aspasia did not falter for a second, “Only by name. He was rumored to be funding both Sparta and Athens, forcing the war to rage on. If he’s dead, that could help with Perikles’ problems,” she smiled at her, leaning forward in her seat, “Do you know who killed him?”

“I just know the rumors. Some say bandits, others say he owed a lot of money to a politician somewhere, a few claimed a man in Chalkis sent mercenaries after him. All I know he was found dead in his home with his guards, and they could hardly recognize him,” Kassandra shrugged here, enjoying playing her game as Aspasia seemed to cling to her every word, “Whoever killed him had ripped him apart.”

Aspasia nodded, a hint of bloodthirsty glee in her eyes, and Kassandra wondered if she had hated Elpenor even while they still worked on the same side. 

“What did you hear from the Pythia?”

And Kassandra scoffed at that, “Nonsense. I asked her where I could find my mater and she said I should go south and find my father instead. My father died when I was just barely born.”

“You have suffered much in such a short time, Dianthe. I hope you find your mother,” Aspasia rose, and Kassandra followed suit, “Sadly, I do not know how much help I can be. It has been years since I visited Korinth and tales of exiled Spartan women are rare. I do have some friends in the region I can direct you too and Alkibiades has far more. I would recommend going to Keos as well as Korinth, my friend Xenia rarely allows people to go east without her knowledge. She might have more information.”

“Thank you, Aspasia.”

“It is I who should be thanking you, Dianthe. You have brought me information, and I will be able to act far sooner. More importantly, you saved our friend Herodotus, and Perikles and I will forever be in your debt.”

Kassandra didn’t even have to fake her blush as Aspasia leaned forward to kiss her cheek, “I heard you will be attending my symposium. Come see me beforehand, your dress is beautiful but I will procure one more suitable.”

“You honor me.”

“Nonsense, child. Now, I hope you find your mother, but no matter how your journey ends, I hope you consider returning to Athens and working for me. I could use a woman of your talents.” 

Before Kassandra could even process that offer, Aspasia kissed her cheek once more and left. And before she could even begin to process the conversation or even sigh in relief that Aspasia did not seem to know who she truly was, she was interrupted once more.

“I do hope you enter Aspasia’s service,” came a familiar drawl, and in walked Alkibiades - but ‘walked’ was perhaps too kind. 

He stumbled in, clearly drunk and half nude as usual, and did his best to make his lack of stable footing look more a suave lean against the doorway and not the tripping over his own feet that it was.

“Even more, I hope you will allow me to service you,” he slurred, no sense of embarrassment in his face as he looked her up and down and up again to settle on her chest.

Kassandra couldn’t help herself - she burst into laughter.

She could always count on Alkibiades to make her laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot earlier than initially planned, but I ended up rewriting this chapter and got on a roll! Plus, if you're enjoying this fic, who's going to complain about faster updates?
> 
> At first, I was going to dedicate this entire chapter to the symposium before I decided Kassandra's and Aspasia's first meeting in this life was a lot more interesting. 
> 
> I still want to cover the symposium, but instead I'll cover it in the next chapter - Around the World II - and I want you guys to help me decide whose perspective I write it from! Right now, I'm leaning towards Aspasia or Alkibiades, but let me know if you want to hear from someone else!
> 
> Next up, we see how the symposium goes, check in with Kassandra's other brother, take a peek into the mind of our favorite huntress, and watch Phoibe write a letter back on Kephallonia.


	11. Around the World II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokrates makes a new friend, Daphnae daydreams about a misthios, Stentor plays the game in Sparta, and Phoibe misses her big sister.

Sokrates:

Sokrates prided himself on knowing everything of importance in Athens, and Herodotus’ return to Athens, with a mysterious young woman no less, was of great importance. He had planned to interrogate his friend at the Symposium, and was pleasantly surprised to see that his mysterious friend was also in attendance.

A foreign woman, and if his suspicions were correct, a misthios, was a rare sight in Athens, let alone in Perikles’ symposium, where only the finest minds in Athens and Perikles’ dearest friends (and enemies) were welcomed. Perikles must think rather highly of her.

Or, more likely, Aspasia did.

Either way, Sokrates planned to figure out more about their mysterious guest, but speaking to Herodotus was far more important to him, so he resolved to make her acquaintance after meeting with his friend, currently speaking to Alkibiades and Anaxagoras. 

“Herodotus! We had not expected you in Athens again so soon. What say the Pythia?”

“Wouldn’t you say that what she didn’t say is even more important?” Herodotus replied, a smile on his face as he nodded in greeting, “Sokrates, it is good to see you alive and well. I would have expected someone to strangle you in exasperation by now.”

Alkibiades had laughed at that, “As I’ve said before, I am happy to find another use for your mouth, Sokrates.”

“Then who will make the Athenian’s heads burst when he talks circles around them,” Anaxagoras said, clapping his mentee on the shoulder good naturedly and beckoning for more wine, “In this, the student has far surpassed the teacher.”

“I fear Athens will turn on you, Anaxagoras. You did unleash Sokrates on them,” Aspasia said, walking toward them with the servant who brought the wine. Anaxagoras nodded, their faces all suddenly somber on remembering the threat of Kleon and his faction. Herodotus shook the look from his face.

“The Pythia said nothing, she is controlled by a mysterious cult. I barely escaped with my life once they learned I sought guidance on Perikles behalf.”

“By none other than the lovely Dianthe,” Alkibiades leered her way, motioning for her to join them. She smiled their way and bid farewell to Hermippos and Aristophanes, coming over to their group with a slight bow.

“One of you must be Sokrates, as Herodotos appears to have a headache,” she said to Anaxagoras and Sokrates, the former who laughed as the latter bowed exaggeratedly.

“But who is Sokrates?” he asked her, “A philosopher? A friend? A pain in the ass?”

“We’ve only just met, I cannot tell you who you are. All I know of you is the reputation that comes with your name.”

“Yet we’ve just spoken, surely that is enough to tell you who I am?”

“How can it? We wake one person and go to sleep another. Who we are is constantly changing, just as the world changes. We adapt to fit our reality.”

Sokrates laughed as the rest of their party groaned, “One Sokrates is bad enough, two is far more than I’m willing to entertain tonight,” Aspasia said, before gesturing to Herodotus and Anaxagoras, “Come with me, Perikles would like to speak to you both in private. If I do not return, I hope you enjoy our hospitality tonight.”

The three left, only Alkibiades remaining and surprisingly not overly drunk. Dianthe turned back to Sokrates, a wide grin fixed on her face.

“It would be far more interesting to hear who you think I am, as you don’t even have the luxury of my reputation to assist you,” she challenged him, golden eyes flashing and grin turning to a wide smirk.

“A misthios,” he said, not a moment of hesitation and her smirk grew wider.

“But there are countless mercenaries throughout Greece, to call someone a misthios is to say practically nothing. Do I have my limits? Would I kill a child for the right price? Is my sword an extension of my arm or a means to an end?”

Sokrates felt his brow furrow and his grin grew wider as Dianthe continued, “But can you even trust what I say? I have been in Athens only a few days, and no one but Herodotus can back up what I say. You have only my word and your own observations to know who I am. I could be a spy or assassin, yet here I am, in Perikles’ own home surrounded by his friends.”

“I hope you are not a spy or assassin, as I imagine we are to be great friends, and if you were to kill any of my friends here it would make such things most difficult.”

“Luckily for our friendship, I do not plan to kill anyone here tonight.”

“Then I will trust you as much as I trust anyone,” and Dianthe laughed loudly at that.

“A terrible choice, really, but who am I to judge? I’m just a misthios looking for her mother. I survive only through blind trust.”

“Yet I imagine your skill with a sword makes you far more likely to give people a chance. After all, you could kill them if they betray you.”

The misthios smiled at that.

“I suppose it does.”

\----

Daphnae

As long as her bow was true, there was no reason to be worried that a certain misthios kept slipping into her mind?

At least, that’s what Daphnae ultimately decided. She had liked Kassandra, after all.

A lot.

The lost granddaughter of Leonidas spent a few days at the temple with her, saying she would rather stay and ride to Thermopylae than help her crew roll the Adrestia across Megaris - especially as most of the Spartan troops she had fought side by side with were still holding Megaris and she had no patience for another hundred marriage proposals, she had said laughing.

Daphnae didn’t doubt that the Spartans thought themselves in love with her. Kassandra was beautiful and fierce, funny and kind, and easy to love. Daphnae felt herself fall a little bit in love with her each of the five days she stayed at the temple. 

Her sisters loved Kassandra too. They smothered Phobos and Nyx with affection and adored Ikaros, but it was Kassandra who they hunted with, lost every sparring match to, and told the best jokes. She was younger than most of the huntresses, early twenties she had said when asked, but felt older. She assumed it was a result of being thrown off a mountain as a child.

Five days, Kassandra stayed, flirting easily and smiling widely, until she couldn’t stay another day longer. She had left later afternoon, kissing Daphnae on the cheek, laughing as she blushed bright red, and promised to free the hunters held captive by the Athenians in Trachis Fort on her way to Thermopylae.

Eos, Heraklea, and Melissa arrived a day and a half later with wide eyes and quite a story to tell, although quick to assure Daphnae that Penelope and Physkoa were safe in Lamia.

Kassandra had slipped into the fort in the darkness, Phobos carefully hidden in the nearby forest, Ikaros scouting overhead, and Nyx prowling the ground as Kassandra climbed the walls.

Accustomed to the dark, the five hunters had watched as Kassandra slipped through the Athenian forces, killing without a sound, as she made her way to disable the beacon. She had almost made it when the man they knew to be the Polemarch saw her slit a throat.

In her rush to silence the Polemarch, she had thrown her spear and accidentally let her initial kill slip from her arms, falling from the walls and landing with a horrible splat right in front of the Athenian puppet who claimed to lead Malis and his retinue of guards.

As the leader had been at the fort to question the captured hunters, all five were able to clearly hear Kassandra’s “Fuck.”

Even if she had been on the other side of the fort, they likely would have been able to hear her still, as she completely disregarded any form of subtlety from then on.

Nyx had then lunged forward to attack to rip out the leader’s throat, doing so fast enough that she had moved to attack the first of the guards before anyone had realized what had happened.

Heraklea and Melissa said they had been more focused on the massive wolf, but Eos had never taken her eyes off of Kassandra. 

Her voice was one part wonder, one part lust, and two parts complete and utter worship as she told Daphnae how Kassandra had leapt further than she ever thought possible to retrieve her spear and the moment the blade was in her hands, Kassandra had glowed with power, as if her veins ran red with fire and not the blood of normal men and women.

From there, it was as if watching a goddess fight, as she moved swiftly through the Athenians, cutting them down as if they were flies in her way and not heavily armored trained soldiers. With Nyx fighting the guards in front of the cages with ease, it seemed the fort would be theirs in minutes.

So then, of course, Praxagora and Polemusa the Betrayers showed up.

The pair had been hunters once, until leaving the order to become mercenaries around six years ago. The Daughters of Artemis would have given them their love and friendship when their paths diverged, if the first contract they took hadn’t been to destroy the Daughter’s camp they had called home and the hunters they had called sister for years.

Fifteen of their sisters had been slaughtered by surprise, and Praxagora and Polemusa had escaped with their lives. Daphnae had been at the camp then, still a lieutenant for the previous leader of the Daughters of Artemis, and had managed to blind Praxagora in her left eye as they ran. Such a fine shot, and at such a distance too, had put her on the list to replace her predecessor when Elodi had died two years ago.

The captured huntresses raged to be let out of their cage to kill the betrayers, but were ignored as the two aimed their bows at Kassandra and the great bear that followed lunged at Nyx.

Heraklea and Melissa, along with Physkoa, had feared the worst for the beautiful wolf, but Nyx was a behemoth in her own way and just as fierce as her master, and managed to avoid the skull crushing swipe.

Eos had screamed in unison with Penelope for Kassandra to look out, but she needn't have worried - Kassandra, without a moment's hesitation, spun around and with a cross of her blades, blocked the arrows heading for her skull. She let out a whistle, and Ikaros streaked across the sky to rip out the eyes of the last Athenian as Kassandra lept into battle.

With practiced ease, Polemusa dropped back with her bow and Praxagora armed herself with her mace just in time to block Kassandra’s first strike.

It was over quickly - Kassandra dodged Praxagora’s blows and Polemusa’s arrows easily, sinking her sword in Praxagora’s throat before turning to Polemusa with a grin.

A coward to the end, Polemusa turned her bow to Nyx, fighting for her life against the bear, and fired. 

Half a breath after the arrow pierced Nyx’s chest with a yelp, Kassandra’s spear slashed across Polemusa’s throat, but she turned to the bear too late to do anything but watch as the beast landed a blow on the wolf’s side.

The Betrayer’s bear died a moment later, as Kassandra slid underneath his legs and buried her spear in his throat and as he fell, she was at Nyx’s side.

Penelope was a healer, and begged to be let out and help. Kassandra had smashed open the cage with a swing of her leg and the huntresses swarmed the injured wolf.

Daphnae and her sisters let out a sigh of relief when Eos revealed that Penelope managed to stabilize Nyx and with Physkoa, had taken her to Lamia to recover. She would be unable to fight for months as she healed, but Nyx would live.

Then Melissa had smiled, a feral grin, and cut off Daphnae before she could even begin to speak, “In exchange for the wolf’s safe recovery and care, the Eagle Bearer sent us back with a gift for you, Daphnae.”

Heraklea and Melissa then opened the pouches slung on their shoulders and out-tumbled the heads of Praxagora and Polemusa. 

“Offerings to the goddess, if Daphnae wills it, she said,” Eos said with a grin, and the Daughters of Artemis grinned, just as wild in that moment as so many thought them.

\----

Stentor:

It had been three months since Sparta took control of Megaris and still, Stentor woke up each morning wondering how he could have even gotten so lucky.

Most of his life, the only family he had was his pater, and since that day three months ago, he had a sister. Two sisters, actually, though he hadn’t met Phoibe yet. Kassandra had made it clear that Phoibe was his sister too, and now he had a younger sister to protect and an older sister to watch out for him.

His pater had tried to argue with that, reminding Kassandra that she was only twenty three to Stentor’s twenty five, but Kassandra had turned to Nikolaus with a feral grin and reminded him that being thrown off a mountain by your father tends to age one a few years at least.

She had laughed afterwards, and Stentor had to concede that if he had to have someone watching out for him, he couldn’t have anyone better than Kassandra.

By the gods, his sister was a force of nature.

He had heard the rumors in the Spartan camp, he had gone with some of his men to her campfire one night, but nothing could have prepared him for Kassandra in battle.

Incredible, she was, elegant and powerful. Fluid in a way not even the greatest Spartan could achieve - she never hesitated for even the barest moment with her blades. And Ikaros, the two moved in tandem as if they shared a mind and soul. Her wolf was a sight to behold, but Nyx’s partnership with Kassandra was nowhere near as synchronized as her partnership with Ikaros. 

Now that he knew her to be Spartan, and his sister no less, Stentor could freely admit that the fight for Megaris might not have gone their way if not for Kassandra. He believed his men would have won the fight, but they likely would have lost far more than the six they lost with the Eagle Bearer by their side.

Before then, he had considered her a nuisance - a very distracting nuisance to his men despite her usefulness. 

She was beautiful, no one could deny it, and it was the blood on her armor and the blade in her hand that kept anyone from that kept his men thinking her one of the heterea that tended to congregate around military camps. That she could kill them didn’t stop the lewd suggestions of some of his men when she offered her assistance, but in their defense, no one knew she could easily kill them all at that time. 

Then over the course of two weeks, Kassandra alone took control of Fort Geraneia, assassinated the Megarian king, and killed the mercenary that had been a thorn in Stentor’s side for months. It was after she delivered Hyrkanos’ head and papers to Stentor’s tent that he decided to visit her campfire, hoping that in the celebration of Hyrkanos’ death, no one would notice his presence.

He had been rather rude to Kassandra after all, and harsh towards his men who spoke so fondly of her. Yet when she noticed him, she had flashed a grin his way before turning down yet another proposal of marriage. It was the sixth of the night and far more followed, and Stentor was ashamed to admit that at the time, he was far too angry at each of her suitors.

Brotherly love, he decided, emerging from his subconscious, and refused to think of it further.

It was definitely brotherly love following that particular revelation, because Stentor was not going to let his newly acquired sister join some other family just yet. He doubted any man could claim control over Kassandra but he knew some men demanded absolute obedience from their wives.

At the very least, silently fuming at any of Kassandra’s admirers gave him a sense of productivity - he was preventing a potential murder when Kassandra killed a suitor who dared step too far.

Thankfully, it was Brasidas who gave him the opportunity to yell at his men and get them to shut up.

The man had suggested that the Eagle Bearer had been the mercenary to kill the Wolf in the dining area, and Stentor had snapped.

“The Eagle Bearer proved to be a true Spartan in Megaris. Even if she acts the mercenary, she is the last person who would have killed my pater, and were she to return to Sparta, I would be the first to petition the kings to end her exile.”

Then once more, someone made a joke that she must have been quite the lover to change Stentor’s allegiance from his father to her, and Stentor had seen red. He punched the fool, repeatedly in fact, and yelled once more.

“The Eagle Bearer proved herself to be far more honorable than any of you depraved fools, and for all you claim to admire her, you disrespect her with all this talk. If I hear anyone else lusting after her, I will ensure that your only taste of battle is cleaning up the shit in the camps.”

That seemed to shut them up, at least until he left, and Aketes was quick to point out how unsubtle he had been, and how if anything, he had fueled rumors that he was in love with his sister.

“I can’t say I don’t understand. My sister was very popular in our village, and our father received offers for her hand every day once she turned seventeen. I hated hearing the boys talk about her.”

Stentor nodded, “I just wanted to stop hearing about it.” Aketes had slapped his shoulder at that. 

By the gods, Aketes was a blessing. When Kassandra and Barnabas had asked him to take the man with him to Sparta, he had been wary and upset. He didn’t need a nanny.

But Aketes wasn’t Spartan, his solution to everything wasn’t to punch his way out of it, though he could act the part when needed.

He watched, and he listened, and every few nights, he presented Stentor with a new person working for Pausinias and Kosmos and not Sparta. He trusted Aketes with his life, which was why it was so concerning that once they were far enough away from the dining area, Aketes motioned for Stentor to lean down, and whispered in his ear.

“Brasidias was watching your reaction upon mentioning Kassandra.”

Stentor cursed: they didn’t know whether Brasidas was working for Pausinias, but he was a brilliant commander and a better spy. If his allegiance was to Kosmos, then Sparta had lost one of its greatest assets, and if Brasidas was on to them, then Stentor and Aketes were fucked.

“How long will it take you to determine whether or not he’s with the enemy?”

“He’s smart, I won’t be able to find anything out for certain before he leaves.”

“Leaves?”

“In just a few days, by order of the kings. To Korinth.”

“Yes, I remember now. Which king?”

“Unknown.”

Stentor thought for a moment - Korinthia was currently under the thumb of a brutal mercenary, and Stentor had already sent his suspicions to Kassandra that the Monger was a cultist. 

Brasidas had been ordered to depose him and ensure the region allied with Sparta. 

Archidamos had no ulterior motive for sending Brasidas to Korinth, but Pausinias could be sending Brasidas to meet with their ally or sending him to his doom.

Cultist or not, Brasidas too powerful to go to Korinth unwatched, and Stentor made up his mind.

“Go home, Aketes. Visit your family. Find out more about the Monger. And watch Brasidas. If he’s innocent, protect him. If he’s a cultist, send him home on his shield.”

Aketes nodded, smiling big, and then immediately began to talk about his wife and dog, and Stentor laughed with his friend.

\----

Kassandra,

I hope you are still in Megaris when this arrives. Have you seen your father yet? What about your mother? Alexios?

You promised to write as soon as you could, but we’ve gotten nothing! I know it’s only been a month since you left, but that’s long enough for you to have forgotten about me!

I hope you didn’t, but I understand wanting to forget about Markos.

He isn’t happy that I’ve been helping Errine on the farm. She hired another orphan boy to help out. Dorios is nice, but stupid. Whenever I talk to him, he turns red and can’t talk properly, and he squeaks whenever he sees Achilles. But since he started working with us, Markos keeps asking for me to do jobs for him. A couple bandits claimed he owed them money for his vineyard and he told me to get rid of them! He said that because you spent some time training me and now that Achilles is a little bigger I should be able to take him. Errine was very angry and threatened to hit him with a staff, so he left and doesn’t come to the farm anymore, but he still asks me to do things whenever I’m in Sami.

Achilles and Errine are well, and I’ve started practicing with a bow! I’m not very good yet, but I’ll get there!

I hope I hear from you soon!

Love Phoibe

\---- 

Kassandra,

Some traders came from Megaris today, and all they could talk about was the mysterious Eagle Bearer from Kephallonia, fighting for the Spartans. Markos claimed to have taught you everything you knew, and he got really angry when I told everyone he was lying. 

They said you were fighting with your father Nikolaus! I hope you were able to talk to him, and I hope you mentioned me. I like it here with Erinne and Dorios, but I would rather be with you. If he doesn’t think I’m Spartan enough, tell him I have a wolf too, and since they called him the Wolf of Sparta, he has to like me.

The traders said the Adrestia had left Megaris after the battle but didn’t know where you were headed. Errine’s son Belos is supposed to be arriving on Kephallonia in a few days, and his ship is going all the way to Mykonos and then back to Athens. Errine said she’ll ask him to take these letters and ask after the Adrestia in every port.

You haven’t met Dorios yet, but he says hello, and Errine says she hopes you’re safe. She’s writing her own letter to you and since she’s teaching Dorios to write, he said he will write one too.

Love Phoibe

\----

Kassandra,

Belos is leaving later today and we’re in Sami seeing him off and we heard that the Wolf of Sparta is dead!? He was reported dead after you left Megaris so I don’t know if you heard or if it’s true but I’m very sorry.

Any news of Alexios or your mother?

Phoibe

\----

Kass,

Phoibe says you are very nice and a hero like Herakles. She is very nice too. I hope to meet you soon.

Dorios

\----

Kassandra, 

While I know you are no mere warrior, the fighting is harsh in the east and I hope you are safe. Phoibe trains everyday with the knife you left her, and even though it’s too big for her, trains with the staff too.

Markos owed her money, and Duris owed Markos money, and somehow she managed to haggle with Duris and now has a bow she has begun practicing with. Besides accidentally killing one of our chickens, there have been no injuries, though I have half a mind to try and shoot Markos. How you could possibly stand that man, I will never know.

I’m sure Phoibe told you, although I don’t know if you got her letter, that I have taken a second orphan under my wing. Dorios is a sweet boy and a hard worker, but half in love with Phoibe already and hopeless. She thinks him a mindless fool and he thinks her a goddess, much like I heard half of Sparta thinks you a mortal Athena.

My Belos is taking these letters with him on the journey to Mykonos and Athens. He promises to ask about you and the Adrestia in every port and I desperately hope these letters find their way to you.

There are rumors that Kausos village has been struck by a plague. Just rumors now, but a priest warned that all of Kephallonia would be destroyed by this blood fever if Kausos isn’t eradicated. I know that some were sick, but I do not know if the village is taken by plague. I have been keeping Phoibe and Dorios from the village and saving every spare drachmae. With the drachmae you left, we should be able to buy passage off a ship should the worse happen. I don’t know where we would go, but I’ll write and leave a letter at the farm just in case.

I promise, I will keep Phoibe safe.

Erinne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter - hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> I doubt I did Sokrates justice, but I tried, and I hope Kassandra wasn't too out of character there. I head-cannon that she spends a lot of time in the future reminiscing about her dead friends, and ends up reading a lot on philosophy, especially on the Socratic method and his students.
> 
> Daphnae and Kassandra will meet again soon so our favorite misthios can reunite with her wolf, and I wanted to connect Kassandra with the Daughters of Artemis even more. In the game, I didn't like how they were hostile unless you killed Daphnae and became their leader, and since Daphnae is 100% going to live in this story, I needed some other reasons to explain why they love Kassandra.
> 
> I see Stentor as both a rising general and politician, but not overly respected. In Sparta's eyes, he's a crappy replacement for the grandchildren on Leonidas and his devotion to his father, his only family, and rigid Spartan beliefs don't endear him to everyone. So when he meets Kassandra in this story, he meets a sister, and gets a mother, brother, and another sister in Myrinne, Alexios, and Phoibe all at once, and with learning that King Pausinias ordered his father killed, his loyalties shift from Sparta to his family.
> 
> As for Phoibe - she had to get off Kephallonia while staying as far away from Athens as possible, and I assure you that she will be showing up very soon! While these letters were written way earlier in the story, they've just gotten to the Adrestia in Athens and Kassandra will read them following the Symposium. 
> 
> Next chapter, we hear from Alexios' perspective as the Adrestia receives a lot of mail, and the crew make plans moving forward.


	12. Port of Piraeus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra makes an unpopular decision and Alexios confronts his sister about her previous life

He had taken out a few generals with cultist ties and killed Hermippos in his home before swimming back to the Adrestia. Kassandra and Herodotus were already back, sitting in the Captain’s quarters with Nikolaus and Barnabas and a young man he didn’t recognize. 

“Who’s this?” he said, tossing some scrolls to his sister where she lounged in a hammock.

“Belos, my brother Alexios. Alexios, Erinne’s son Belos. He found our mother.”

Poor Belos shrunk in his seat as Alexios quickly turned to him and stared him down. 

“I work on a ship. The Deimos under Heiron. We went from Kephallonia to Mykonos and stopped in Naxos on our way to Athens. Myrinne accosted me when I said my mother knew the Eagle Bearer.”

Trying not to laugh at the name of his ship, Alexios motioned for the man to continue, “Your mother gave me a letter for your sister and paid me to find the Adrestia. That you were in Athens was luck.”

“What was she like?”

Belos smiled, “Forceful, and kind. She scared me at first but she reminded me a lot of my mother. She threatened me until I gave her Phoibe’s letters to read and once she learned that you might be alive, she cried.” He turned back to Kassandra, “It was an honor to meet the woman who saved my mother and helped bury my father, but I need to get back to my crew.”

“Of course, Belos. I hope you return for dinner before you depart, and consider our offer.”

Belos nodded, promised to come for dinner the night after next, and consider their offer to sail on the Adrestia. Once he left, Kassandra handed Alexios a letter, “From our mother.”

He practically ripped it out of her hands.

“My dear Kassandra,

To hear that you live, the gods must have some compassion for your poor mother. Since the day you were born, you and Alexios, you were the greatest gifts anyone could ever receive, and Lamb, I must beg your forgiveness.

After that terrible night, I looked for you both, barely hoping that you and Alexios had managed to survive. I never found your body, and once I found Alexios barely clinging to life, I confess I forgot everything but saving him. And when the priestesses of Hera told me he passed, I felt something break inside of me, and I couldn’t bear to return to Sparta and look for you. I fled, running away from my home and family and everything I was, and for that I will never forgive myself. I only hope you will come to Naxos and allow me to be a mother again.

If you find Belos, do not be angry at him for giving me Phoibe’s letters - I had to know if the Eagle Bearer, the Kassandra that he spoke of was my lost daughter. And the moment Phoibe mentioned Alexios, that he might live and you were looking for him along with me and Nikolaus, hope I never thought I would feel again came back to me. That I could hold both my children again is a miracle from the gods. When you find your brother, tell him how much I love him and that only death will keep me from finding him.

All my love, forever and for always, to you and your brother. The only reason I am not on my way to you right now is I have no ship anymore and no known location. 

Come to Naxos.

Your mother, Myrinne”

He wiped away his tears and didn’t know when he had begun to cry.

“We need to go to Naxos. Right now.”

There was so much pain in Kassandra’s voice as she answered, “I can’t.”

“We must go to her! This is our mother, Kassandra! She didn’t abandon me. Chrysis stole me from her. That bitch told her that I was dead and broke her heart. The only reason we wouldn’t go to Naxos at once was if we were to go rip Chrysis limb from limb.”

“I said I can’t go, but the Adrestia leaves for Naxos in two days,” Kassandra lifted up three other scrolls, “From Sparta. I need to go to Korinth.”

“What news from our brother?”

“Korinthia is terrorized by the Monger. Stentor correctly suspected he was a cultist and sent Aketes to follow another suspected cultist. Brasidas of Sparta.”

Images flashed in his head, a battlefield on fire, a Spartan warrior impaled on his own spear, his sister screaming in rage at him as he killed the man he knew was Brasidas.

“Brasidas is an honorable man, and a true Spartan. He cannot be a cultist,” Nikolaus argued and Alexios nodded.

“He isn’t part of Kosmos,” Alexios said, and watched his sister. Brasidas had been someone very important to Kassandra in that other life, that much was clear. 

Afterall, she was choosing to go to Korinth to keep him safe instead of going to Naxos to see Myrinne. She considered him hers in some way, she loved him.

Barnabas kept looking between Kassandra and Alexios, and Herodotus was doing the same, although far more subtly, and Alexios knew that Kassandra had told them about her life before. It made sense - she needed their trust and she needed it quickly. 

“I’ll go with Kassandra,” Nikolaus said, “Stentor’s letter says he might be sent to Argos, and I’d like to see him.”

“Not to mention that Myrinne might kill you if you showed your face in Naxos unannounced,” Kassandra noted, examining a map, “I don’t know how long we will be in Korinth, but we will make our way to Argolis once we deal with the Monger. The Adrestia will meet us there.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Chyrsis is in Argos,” Alexios said, and Kassandra nodded.

“She’s your kill, if you want it,” she said, and Alexios nodded.

\----

Despite his eagerness to leave for Naxos, Alexios enjoyed the last few days he could spend with his father and sister. Kassandra went back to Athens only once during the three days they docked at the Port of Piraeus, to return the dress she had borrowed from Aspasia and thank the woman for her assistance. 

Also to debate with her new friend Sokrates, warn him to watch Kleon, and tell him her real name, which Nikolaus and Herodotus debated was a good idea or not for hours until she just left and did it anyway.

She returned and asked Alexios if you wanted to go spar on the island to the south, and he very quickly agreed, and they quickly stripped their armor and bet who could reach the island faster before they took off like wild animals.

Alexios was faster on foot, reaching the cliff just before Kassandra, but his sister had spent her childhood swimming along the coast of Kephallonia, and pulled herself up on the rocks while he was still in the deep water. She was waiting for him with a cocky smile and a “What took you so long, baby brother?”

Then he gave her a grin and attacked, so he could use the fact that he was still out of breath as an excuse for why Kassandra knocked him on his ass without even drawing her spear.

Then she handed it to him, “To give you a chance, baby brother.”

So sword in one hand and spear in the other, he charged, feeling more powerful in that moment then he ever had before. He wondered if this was how Kassandra felt all the time, and if it was the spear in her hand of the blood running through her veins that made her a force of nature unlike any other.

Then she knocked him on his ass again. And again. And once more.

So when he finally surrendered and gave her back the spear, he told her so, and she laughed and waved him off.

“The spear holds unbelievable power, but only for certain members of our bloodline. Leonidas had it, but it went to our mother and not her uncle or cousin because she could feel its power. I can wield it, I know you could if you needed to. I’m sure El- any children I have could wield it.” She motioned for him to sit down next to her but he ignored her, moving behind her to braid her hair - a few of the smaller braids he had added yesterday had fallen out in their sparring match.

“Aletheia says our bloodline has a great destiny,” he said, and finally gathered his courage, “You’ve met her before, haven’t you? In your first life.”

She tensed for a moment, before relaxing with a nod and motioning for him to continue.

“You knew people and things you shouldn’t have, and Aletheia confirmed it,” he slipped another bead from his hair and finished her first braid, “Was I always Deimos then?”

“No. But you were never truly Alexios either like you are now.”

“I killed Brasidas,” And she pulled away from him at that, his hands slipping from her hair, “Who was he to you? Your husband?”

She shook her head, “He was my friend, my dearest friend. I loved him, more than most, but I never knew if he felt the same. With him, I was too busy for love, not like with Daphnae.”

“Did I kill her too?”

“No. I did. Brasidas was dead, and while I loved you still, I couldn’t be in Sparta with you anymore, so I fled to Chios when she asked me to come . Then she asked me to kill her and lead the Daughters of Artemis in her stead and I was so broken that I did.”  
She paused another moment, settling back next to him though he dared not reach for her hair, “That was when Aletheia called me for the first time. Did you know that Nikolaus isn’t my real father? Pythagoras is, and he’s still alive now. He ordered me to hunt monsters like the cyclops we fought, and told me that is was my destiny to wield this fucking staff and protect Atlantis and the staff until the next wielder came. But no one told me that I was going to have to wait over two thousand years for that malakas.”

She spit on the ground, “I killed Pythagoras when he turned against me. He said he needed the staff more than I did, and I wasn’t myself then. I had just killed the Withering Dread and was so tired that I killed him to take the damn staff, not knowing what it would do to me. All I could focus on was that everyone had told me that I had a duty to my bloodline, my people, my future, and that I had to wield that fucking staff to do so.”

Alexios sat there silently with her for another moment, before daring to ask one more question, “Did you ever have a child?”

Kassandra smiled sadly, “One. Elpidios. His father was a kind man and that was what I needed after having lost so much. I don’t think I truly loved him, and he died soon after Elpidios was born so I never got the chance to learn how to. Elpidios was being hunted by a branch of the cult, and I sent him away to keep him safe. He wasn’t even a year old when I said goodbye, and he was a father and grandfather when I found him again,” she didn’t cry but Alexios did. “I don’t think I can do that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of speeding up the timeline here and addressing Kassandra's relationship with a certain Persian. With how I played the game, Kassandra was a little broken and found kindred spirits in Darius and Natakas, but love is not the word I would use to describe Kass and Natakas. Having played Kassandra as a bisexual woman and completing the Atlantis DLC before the Hidden Blade DLC, I understood more the whole "Kassandra had to continue the bloodline" and didn't have my lesbian Kassandra forced into a straight relationship, so I wasn't quite as pissed off as I know some people were, but also, Natakas? Really? 
> 
> Darius and Natakas will appear in this story but I'm not going to spoil anything else there.
> 
> Also, I was feeling the feels writing the scene with Alexios and Kassandra at the end and drew Kassandra looking soft!  
> https://dubdubdoubles.tumblr.com/search/kassandra
> 
> Next up, Kassandra and Nikolaus return to Megaris


	13. Megaris II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra and Nikolaus get lucky in Megaris

That they had made it so far through the Spartan occupied Megaris as they did without Nikolaus being recognized wasn’t the miracle. That the Wolf of Sparta was recognized first by a Spartan they knew they could trust was. 

They had made a list before leaving Alexios and Barnabas and Herodotus and the Adrestia, combining Nikolaus’ knowledge of Spartan generals, Alexios’ knowledge of cultists, Barnabas’ knowledge of which Spartan ships tended to engage in piracy, and Herodotus’ knowledge on which Spartans had Athenian ties or surveillance on them. Then Kassandra further narrowed it with her “gut feeling” and with the other three backing her up, Nikolaus had to yield, knocking the list of trustworthy Spartan military leaders down to a mere four, not including Stentor.

Brasidas, of course, was number one on their list, but he was obviously not going to be in Megaris. Simonides was number two, a friend of Stentor’s from the agoge and trained by Nikolaus to boot. Nikias was one of Nikolaus’ friends from the agoge, only a few years younger, and Kassandra had met him in Megaris during her first visit - he had been one of the men who killed Elpenor’s contact after the Adrestia had left for Kirrha. 

It was number four on their list, however who found them, and the one that Kassandra had pushed for. As annoying as he could, he was still one of the few Spartans she had considered a true friend in her first life, and she had managed to make sure he made the list after learning that he had trained with Stentor in the agoge and was well liked and admired.

So the moment the first incredulous whisper of “Nikolaus” came from the normally much louder Lysander, both Kassandra and Nikolaus took a sigh of relief, thankful that they wouldn’t be forced to kill an innocent Spartan. Kassandra quickly took their horses and Nikolaus dragged his friend out of the street, Kassandra not far behind. 

“Lysander! This is the first time in years I’ve seen you so far from Sparta! What are you doing in Megaris?” Nikolaus said, just casually enough that most onlookers would assume two friends were catching up and not that the younger man was being abducted by the older. 

“What are you doing alive! You disappeared almost a year ago. Sparta thought you dead!”

“No, but a king wished me dead. Come help us set up camp, and I’ll explain everything.”

“Us?” he said, and Lysander turned back to look at Kassandra, who smiled and nodded. 

“Kassandra.”

“My daughter with Myrinne,” Nikolaus said proudly, as rehearsed, and Lysander’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Leonidas’ granddaughter,” he said, almost reverently, and Kassandra laughed at that. 

“Pater, how long will it take for Sparta to see me as anything more than the granddaughter of Leonidas?” She joked, more than a little aware that this was the first time she had called him Pater since meeting him again in Megaris. 

He responded in kind, doing his best not to show that he definitely knew this was only the second time she had called him Pater since their meeting in Megaris, “Introduce yourself as the Eagle Bearer first. That will catch people’s attention.”

Lysander ripped himself out of Nikolaus’ grip to turn and stare at her. 

“The Eagle Bearer. You are the Eagle Bearer. Kassandra the granddaughter of Leonidas is the Eagle Bearer.”

Ikaros landed on her shoulder to truly blow the man’s mind, and Kassandra had to smile as she watched Lysander’s mind reset. 

Ultimately, it seemed to click, and he laughed, “I can’t wait to hear this story!”

——

He wasn’t laughing later, his chicken forgotten as he stared at the fire. 

“Pausanias has betrayed Sparta,” he said, yet again, before looking back up at them, “You are sure about this?”

“You’ve seen the evidence for yourself, you must know it’s true,” Nikolaus said, and Lysander nodded somberly.

“It’s just hard to believe our king could betray us this way,” he said, before turning to Kassandra, “Kosmos found you in Kephallonia? Planned for you to commit patricide?”

Kassandra nodded, feeding Ikaros a scrap of chicken, “The Cult holds power in every part of the Greek world. My father had to die to truly be safe from them. But we have killed seven high ranking cultists, and we know the rest. It is time for my family to go home.”

“Stentor is not in Sparta. He was sent to Argos,” Lysander interrupted, before shaking his head, “You already knew, you are on your way to him now.”  
Nikolaus frowned, “Not yet. We are going to Korinthia first, to meet with our informant and take down the Monger.”

“He can’t be a cultist though,” Lysander argued, “Pausinias sent Brasidas himself to dispose of him and protect Sparta’s allies in the region.”

“Pausinias ordered the Monger to send Brasidas home on his shield,” Nikolaus said, “We won’t let that happen,” and Lysander nodded in approval.

“Brasidas is a good man, better than most, and far cleverer than we deserve. We’d have lost Megaris a month ago if not for his spy network, and the Athenians would be moving on to Korinthia and Argolis by now.”

“We will be meeting with him in Korinth, and bringing him into the fold before meeting the rest of our family in Argolis,” and Lysander was smart enough to catch the meaning behind those last words.

“Myrinne is alive?”

Kassandra grinned, “Serving as the Archon of Naxos. Alexios should arrive there in a month,” and Lysander’s jaw dropped once more.

“Alexios is alive. The grandson of Leonidas.”

“The Cult stole him from our mother when she found him clinging to life on the bottom of Mount Taygetos. They tortured him, turned him into a weapon, but he escaped,” Lysander went quiet at that, deep in thought, and Kassandra continued, “He went through so much pain at their hands that I refuse to let him near anyone as powerful in the cult as Pausinias until we dispose of him. So, Naxos. And then Barnabas is going to keep him busy for a couple months.”

“Is that what the Mykonos letter was about?” Nikolaus asked, and Kassandra nodded. 

“A rebel group asked the Eagle Bearer for help at the recommendation of a Spartan general. Thalatas.”

Lysander snorted a little at that, “Thalatas, a good man, but too emotional. So you sent the future king to Naxos?”

Nikolaus did not seem to have expected that question, but Kassandra had, and glared at Lysander. 

“Alexios will not be king unless he wants to be king. If Sparta tries to force him to take the throne, I will burn it to the ground.”

He threw up his hands at that in surrender, “Pausinias has no sons or brothers, making Alexios the last Agiad heir.”

Nikolaus seemed to have gotten over his shock over Alexios becoming king, and instead pointed to Kassandra, who stared at his hand as if it had personally offended her. 

“You can’t be serious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but the next few are going to be pretty long. I wasn't planning on posting this little world building/filler chapter so soon, but I got such an amazing comment on this story last night that I was super inspired to write - which kinda sucks because I'm supposed to be studying for my midterm.
> 
> No regrets.
> 
> Next chapter, two Spartans meet outside a warehouse in Korinth. One sets the warehouse on fire.


	14. Korinthia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra stalks a familiar Spartan, sets a warehouse on fire, and flirts a lot.

She rather enjoyed bickering with Nikolaus on their journey from Megaris to Korinth, even if she was still more than a little annoyed that he suggested that she should be queen.

Still, she had to admit he was getting on her nerves. The last day of their journey was the longest they had been alone together, having traveled with Odessa to Megara where she left to stay with her father and Lysander had spotted Nikolaus only a few hours later.

She loved Nikolaus, but he had still thrown her off a mountain - she was allowed to never forgive him and he was definitely allowed to piss her off. So the second she could, she left him to make camp, sent Ikaros to fetch Aketes for them, and with a quick and unnecessary description of what Brasidas looked like, set off into town.

Then she turned back when she realized that full armor and every weapon she owned wasn’t the smartest way to stalk one of the loves of her life.

So she set off into town again, this time wearing the Spartan red dress and only wearing her bracers and carrying her spear, because, in all honesty, that was all she truly needed. The rest was just for show.

\----

With Ikaros busy, Kassandra had to rely on finding Brasidas the old fashioned way, but thankfully, he wasn’t that hard to find.

He wore a cloak over his armor and his shield was tucked away, but Kassandra knew him. She knew his eyes that saw everything and the smile that shone when he was happy. She knew the broadness of his shoulders and the scar on his cheek.

Kassandra had loved him then and she loved him now, and she swore in that moment that he would know her feelings this time. He had been the one person she truly loved that had never known how she felt, and he would live this time.

Then again, Daphne had known how much Kassandra loved her.

And Daphnae had died.

She shook off those thoughts - no one she loved would die before their time. Not this time. Not Phoibe, not Brasidas, not Daphnae. Not Alexios, or Barnabas, or Herodotus. Stentor, Myrinne, and Nikolaus. Hippocrates and Alkiabiades, Odessa and Roxana, Darius and Natakas, and her entire crew - everyone would live long and happy lives.

On second thought, Sokrates might be enough of an ass that she wouldn’t be able to save him from the Athenian elite - but on her life, she was going to try.

Then she cursed herself because she had gotten so swept up in her rage to ensure no one she loved would die this time that she hadn’t noticed the two thugs following Brasidas.

The Monger’s men, no doubt, and though Brasidias definitely knew they were following him, those were some very heavy maces, and unlike Brasidias, she figured these men would have no qualms about attacking him in the middle of the street, and definitely wouldn’t care who else was hurt in the fight.

So she followed, far enough behind that she wouldn’t be obvious, but close enough that she could join Brasidas if necessary, as Brasidas and the thugs went north. 

Then two more thugs joined, and then another, and Kassandra watched from afar as Brasidias’ shoulders tensed. His spear was under his cloak, and while Kassandra knew how fast he could draw it, with five against one, he might not be quick enough.

She started to close the distance as three more thugs joined the hunt, all from behind, and Kassandra realized they were leading him somewhere, and as soon as she saw it, she had to laugh.

Perhaps Kassandra and Brasidias were always destined to meet at this warehouse. She might have to set it on fire for old times sake.

\----

She does end up setting it on fire, but as a distraction.

The Monger’s men had started to surround Brasidias, her love still unwilling to draw his own spear and shield with the sailors and merchants surrounding them at the dock. 

But she had a little powder and a flint, it met some hay, and voila - explosion and a burning warehouse that distracts the thugs long enough for Brasidas to charge into action.

And because Kassandra is more than a bit of a show off and a flirt, she hurls her spear past him, and it sinks into the throat of his target before he even has the chance to strike. 

To his credit, it barely phases him, though Kassandra knows him well enough to see how he fumbles before turning to the next target, and she grins, before leaping into the fray and snapping a neck before retrieving her spear. From there, it’s already over, Kassandra and Brasidias fighting together as fluidly as they ever had - he is her shield when she needs one and she is his spear when he’s just a little too slow.

Then she’s killed five to his three and they are alone, so she sheathes her spear and turns to him with a grin.

He’s smiling too, but he is far more wary then their last first meeting.

“Hey, Spartan,” she says, laughing a little at how he tenses at her words, “The Wolf of Sparta sent me to find you.”

Somehow, that relaxes him, though he is ready to run her through with his spear at a moment's notice. Her smile widens.

“I’m a friend, there’s no need to impale me,” she says, before letting her eyes run up and down Brasidas, channelling her inner Alkibiades, “At least not with that spear.”

He chokes down a laugh before finally relaxing enough to strap his spear on his back.

“Nikolaus of Sparta died over a year ago.”

“Something tells me you don’t truly believe that,” she responded, and he nods, before sweeping his arm in an exaggerated gesture.

“Lead the way,” he says, before adding with a smile, “Kassandra.”

Her grin feels like it’s about to split her face in two.

\----

Brasidas spent the rest of their way to their camp explaining how he connected Stentor not truly mourning his pater to the random woman stalking him in Korinth having to be the long lost daughter of Myrinne, and the mythical Eagle Bearer to boot..

Kassandra spent that entire time marveling about how clever he truly is and relishing the time spent with her friend. Because while she may love him, Brasidas was her dearest friend first and foremost. 

After Ikaros, of course.

And while it had been over two thousand years since she last spoke with him, and while this may be their first meeting in this life, Kassandra and Brasidas fell back into the same old camaraderie as before.

Brasidas had only just made contact with Anthousa in this lifetime, and took the opportunity to politely complain about her insistence on a public execution. Kassandra understood the urge - after all, she had sent quite the message with Elpenor in Phokis - and said so, much to his disappointment 

“How does General Nikolaus plan to deal with the Monger?” He asked, and Kassandra had to laugh.

“I don’t think we’ve actually discussed it yet. He will be dead by the time we leave to join Stentor in Argolis, but we really came here for you.”

He stumbled in surprise at that.

“What?”

“Did you know Pausinias wants you dead?”

“Me?”

She turned around to look at him where he had stopped, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, and she had to smile.

“Can you think of a greater threat to a traitorous king than a beloved military general and spy?”

“Traitor?”

“Pausinias serves not Sparta, but the Cult of Kosmos.”

“Who?”

“They aren’t very nice - ”

Kassandra’s words died in her throat as Nikolaus’ camp came into view. 

More specifically, Ikaros’s chosen perch.

Then she was running, faster than she had ever run before, sweeping the girl up into a bear hug and feeling like she would never, ever let go again.

“Phoibe!”

\----

Ikaros was the greatest friend Kassandra could ever have.

So wonderful. So smart. 

She would hunt an entire boar - just for him.

That brilliant bird had spotted Phoibe in Korinth, where Erinne had taken her and Dorios as plague began to ravage Kephallonia, while looking for Aketes. He had said hello and brought her to Aketes - who recognized her instantly as the child Kassandra had clung to and cried over leaving as the Adrestia headed for Megaris.

Plus, Achilles.

Phoibe’s wolf was even larger than Nyx, and the limp in his hind leg that Kassandra had named him for long gone, but the littermates were similar in color and the dog loving Aketes had thought him Nyx at first.

When Kassandra arrived without Nyx, he paled, and she was quick to tell him that she planned to ride and meet Daphnae in Boeotia after the Monger was killed. Phoibe too, breathed a sigh of relief, or at least Kassandra assumed, as her girl was still wrapped in her arms.

She had no plans to let go, ever if she could help it. So it fell to Nikolaus to greet Brasidas and reintroduce him to Aketes, and for the two to explain who the fuck the Cult of Kosmos was, beyond “not nice.”

She felt Phoibe stiffen when Nikolaus explained how Kosmos had arranged for Alexios to be killed as a child, and hunted Kassandra after her exile, and pulled herself out of her arms.

“Are they still hunting you?”

Kassandra nodded, “We will kill them all, and then we will be safe.”

Phoibe smiled, “You will have to train me more so I can help. I am not very good with a bow.”

“Come with me to Boeotia. My friend Daphnae leads the Daughters of Artemis, and I will have her teach you.”

Nikolaus knelt beside them, resting a hand on both their shoulders, “And I would be honored to teach you the staff and the spear, just like I taught Kassandra and Stentor and so many boys in the agoge.”

Phoibe’s grin widened, and she punched Kassandra in the shoulder, “I told him he had to like me, but he said he already did.”

“I did threaten to set Nyx on him if he didn’t,” Kassandra said, and Nikolaus laughed.

“She didn’t have to. Phoibe is my family as much as you, and Alexios, and Stentor is,” before turning solemn and turning to the girl, “Phoibe, Kassandra plans to claim you as a member of her household when we return to Sparta,” and Phoibe nodded.

“We talked about this before she left Kephallonia,” she said leaning against Kassandra with a grin.

“She has two options to do so. She can legally claim you as her daughter and ward, or her husband can when she marries,” and Kassandra made a face at that.

“If I marry,” she said, and if her eyes settled on Brasidas as she said that, that just happened to be a coincidence.

“If she marries,” Nikolaus amended without another moment’s hesitation, and if for no other reason, Kassandra had to love him for that.

“However, that will take time, and until that happens, you will not have the safety of citizenship.”

“Even after his death, Pausinias will have allies in Sparta as both king and cultist,” Kassandra added, gripping Phoibe by the shoulders and turning her to make eye contact, “And for your safety, I think Nikolaus should claim you as his daughter and ward now. He is well respected and a citizen, and his status would give you the legal protection I could not.”

“And we would be sisters?”

“We already are,” Kassandra said, and Phoibe turned to Nikolaus.

“You can’t be worse than Markos,” she joked, and that settled it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Phoibe returns, because I couldn't keep her from Kassandra too long!
> 
> Also, Kassandra officially meets Brasidas, who is best described as a confused puppy, but mostly Phoibe and Kassandra get the long ass hug their deserve and Nikolaus offers to adopt Phoibe for her safety.
> 
> Next up, we take a look inside Nikolaus' mind, check in Myrinne's fights with Paros, and see how a certain cultist is reacting to Kassandra's actions.


	15. Around the World III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikolaus has regrets, Myrinne gets the best surprise of her life, and Kleon hates just about everyone in Greece.

Nikolaus:

Phoibe looked like Kassandra, despite looking nothing like his daughter.

They had the same fire and determination in their eyes and when Phoibe walked up with Aketes, short sword at her waist, Ikaros on her shoulder, and her wolf padding along beside her, he felt his heart jump into his throat.

This is how Kassandra should have grown up.

This is how Phoibe will live the rest of her life

Safe and protected in Sparta, running side by side with Kassandra under Myrinne’s watchful eyes while he fought off their suitors with his sons at his side.

He would even have that opportunity sooner than later. According to Erinne’s letter to Kassandra, her ward Dorios followed Phoibe around like a lovesick puppy, and Nikolaus recognized the look on Brasidas’ face as the spy looked at his daughter.

It was the same look he saw in the mirror after he met Myrinne - and Nikolaus pushed down the urge to gut the man, instead clapping him on the back in greeting as Kassandra held Phoibe so tightly you would have thought they had been separated for centuries and not a little over a year.

He also pushed down the urge to pity him - Kassandra had spoken quite fondly of her huntress, and the constant flirting with Odessa on the road to Megaris had given him more than one headache.

“Nikolaus,” Brasidas said with a slight bow, “It is good to see you alive, even if I had my suspicions.”

“And you, Brasidias. Pausinias hopes to weaken Sparta, and once we heard you were investigating Sparta, we feared the worse. We spoke with Lysander in Megaris, he said your information helped them keep the region.”

Brasidas nodded, and his eyes darted to Kassandra for a brief moment, “I admit I used the reputation of the Eagle Bearer to expand my network. A misthios of the people, she’s been called, and claiming her as a Spartan made many farmers and merchants more willing to trust me and my informants.”

“I’m sure Barnabas will be happy to hear that,” Aketes added, “Brasidas! Good to see you, and even better to know you aren’t our enemy.”

“The enemy. The Cult of Kosmos, Kassandra called them? She started to say more, but,” he gestured to Phoibe, still trapped in his daughter’s embrace.

Nikolaus and Aketes nodded.

“The Monger serves them under Pausinias’ orders, just as Stentor suspected,”Aketes said, “My wife works in the temple with my sister and the heterea, and he has begun to target the wealthy in Korinth, and when the bodies are found, their wealth is missing.”

“Likely sent to Kleon in Athens, or at least Alexios suspects. Kosmos profits - ”

“Alexios!” Brasidas interrupted, “Alexios is alive?”

“Kosmos has been hunting Kassandra and Alexios from the moment they were born.”

He watched as Phoibe stiffened and spoke to Kassandra, fear evident in her voice.

“They control the Pythia, and stole him from Myrinne in Argolis. They tortured him, made him their weapon, but he faked his death and escaped,” he continued, already moving to Kassandra and Phoibe as Phoibe asked his daughter for training, “He went to find Myrinne in Naxos.”

Then he offered to teach Phoibe as he had taught Kassandra, swearing to himself that he would not fail her like he had his daughter, and spoke to her about Sparta and Kassandra’s plans. 

Then Phoibe said he couldn’t be worse than Markos, and knowing the little he did about the man who had half raised Kassandra and Phoibe, he felt she had far more faith in him than he deserved. 

After all, Markos had never thrown his children to their deaths.

Kassandra and Alexios had lived, yet Nikolaus had been tortured by that night every day since and would be until the day he died and spent the rest of eternity tortured for his failures as a father.

\----

Myrinne

Since the day Belos left with her letter to Kassandra, Myrinne had spent every morning watching the ships come into the western port of Naxos, with people at every dock with orders to get her should Kassandra and the Adrestia come when she was forced to attend to her duties as leader of Naxos. 

She spent every day praying to any god who would listen that Kassandra would make it despite the increased naval presence of Paros, and made breaking any Parian blockade the greatest priority of Naxos. She went as far as writing the Spartan troops on Mykonos and Delos for assistance, despite her fears of the kings finding her.

She spent every night trying to sleep, terrified that the morning would bring news of her daughter’s death, just as one morning had brought news of Nikolaus’ disappearance and presumed demise.

Despite everything, she had mourned her husband. She had suffered his dedication to Sparta, and knew he would die before abandoning his men. And while her memories of their time together were tainted by that night, he was a good man, and she loved him still, despite her bitterness.

She also mourned the chance to break his nose, as she had Archidamos.

And so each morning, day, and night passed, with no letters or ships carrying news of Kassandra beyond a rumor that she had visited Delphi. And then one morning, things were different.

Timo woke her up far earlier than normal with news that Paros’ fleet had burned in the night, with the few ships not sunk to the bottom of the sea lying broken on the beaches of Paros and Naxos.

Then as she was processing the news, Hektor arrived with an urgent message from their spy on Paros - Silanos had been found dead in his bed, identified only by a scar on his leg as his head had been severed from his body.

Then a young woman came in, having run from Appolonas on Chersis’ orders to inform Myrinne that the Adrestia had pulled into port.

Myrinne was out the door and off on Hektor’s horse at the word Adrestia, and the poor beast was covered in sweat and breathing hard by the time she had thrown the reins to Chersis.

“Which one is the Adrestia?”

“The Adrestia flies the colors of the Eagle Bearer,” an unfamiliar voice said, a scarred hand gesturing to the trireme with an eagle fighting a snake on its sails, and Myrinne turned to the poor man far more ferociously than she had Belos all those months ago. 

“Where is Kassandra?”

“Korinthia, I think,” the young man said with a slight smile, and Myrinne’s next question died in her throat with her fury.

This man had her mother’s eyes, and Nikolaus’ smile.

“Alexios?”

And what could Myrinne do but throw herself into her son’s arms with a sob. And as Alexios wrapped his arms around her with a small whisper of “mater,” she swore to every god there ever was that she was never going to let go.

\----

Kleon

The damned boy was missing, and even as he read a report from the south claiming to have found his ship and armored remains just off the northern coast of Skyros, he refused to believe that Deimos had died in a shipwreck.

The boy had been a pain in his ass since the day Kleon met him, and the man refused to accept that Deimos had died from anything other than Kleon’s own hands.

But now, Deimos was missing. Elpenor and his faction brutally murdered in Phokis. Asterion’s house burned to the ground and the man hadn’t been seen in months. Two of Kleon’s own men were found dead in the streets of Athens, and another had been ignoring his letters. 

They were being hunted and slaughtered by an unknown enemy, and all Chrysis and her insane faction cared about was that their precious Deimos was missing.

At least the wild woman who lived with bears of all things was found dead, mauled to death by her own pets. Chrysis blamed the Daughters of Artemis, and Kleon agreed with Nyx that it would be far easier to let the fools kill each other than argue with the woman’s logic.

If the Daughters of Artemis had killed Zoisme, they would only be doing him another favor by shooting a thousand arrows into Chrysis. If Chrysis could take down the Daughters of Artemis before she died, that would be the most useful thing she ever did.

Either way, his enemies would be dead, or severely weakened. And once he got rid of Perikles and his notions of peace with Sparta, he would take control of Athens.

But the damned man and his allies were one step ahead of him.

Anaxagoras had been ostracized and on the next ship away from Athens before Kleon had been able to arrange for his trial and execution, and Sokrates, who one could rely on to be a pain in the ass if anything, had been uncharacteristically subdued following his mentor’s departure, and Kleon’s spies had revealed the philosopher planned to leave for Delos soon. Alkibiades too, had gone, and his spies could only tell him that Perikles’ ward had gone west. Herodotus had returned to Athens and left once more within the week, and Kleon only knew of Herodotus’ return when Aspasia confronted him.

Apparently, the cult had attacked Herodotus when he visited the Oracle of Delphi, and Aspasia had decided he was to blame. They were lucky that a misthios had stepped in and saved him, otherwise Perikles would have looked into his dear friend’s death and if he had discovered Kosmos’ influence on the Pythia, that would have caused some serious problems.

That Aspasia would throw him to the wolves remained unsaid, and not for the first time, Kleon wondered if Aspasia had betrayed their cause. 

If she had, it would be easy enough to drive her from Athens with Perikles’ demise, and his spies in the west had already given him one solution. But if bringing the Kephallonian plague to Athens proved too difficult, he could try to blame Perikles for Hermippos death.

After all, it had been Perikles’ symposium that Hermippos had been last seen alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I started a new job, the election's been crazy, my dog got surgery, and I'm behind in all my classes - but this was clearly my number one priority.
> 
> Hope I did Myrinne and Alexios' meeting justice!
> 
> Next up, Alexios loves his mother, but has no idea what it means to have a mother.


	16. Naxos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexios and Myrinne reunite.
> 
> It's complicated

His mater was here, alive and beautiful and she hadn’t let go of him since learning who he was.

He loved and despised it in equal measure - he needed to be ready to fight. He may have insured that the cultist powers on Paros had been obliterated before even stepping foot on Naxos, but he knew not to underestimate Kosmos. 

To assume Alexios knew every cultist on every island would make you the biggest fool in Greece. So Barnabas and Kassandra had decided before she left Attika to tell the crew about Kosmos.

Barnabas had cried once every single person on the ship swore to help their captain take down Kosmos and protect Kassandra and her family as if they were their own. Some left the ship with Kassandra, like Odessa, or departed at Keos and Delos as they passed through, returning to their homes and watching for signs of Kosmos, sending word to Kassandra and Barnabas. Harpalos was already dead on Keos, Phaon and his son Hieron having allied themselves with Xenia to kill him and his men. Sisters Artemisia and Korinna were on Delos, keeping watch on Podarkes and having killed the Silver Griffin in his lair off Mykonos - the former Daughters of Artemis were some of the best he’d seen with a bow. Alexios was to join them and meet up with the rebel leader Kyra after ensuring the safety of his mother and Naxos.

By far their most important spy, however, was Barnabas’ daughter Leda.

Or his daughter by blood, as he was quick to clarify, as it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Barnabas was Kassandra’s father far more than Nikolaus or Pythagoras or Markos or anyone else who dared lay claim. 

But Leda was wealthy and well connected in Athens. A friend of hers served Aspasia and another was one of Sokrates’ pupils. She called several soldiers, including some high ranking generals, friends and two more uncles, through her stepfather. And most importantly, she loved Barnabas as her father instantly, and accepted Kassandra as her sister soon after, and promised to join them on the Adrestia following Kosmos’ demise.

And if Alexios was disappointed the beautiful Leda was not going to be joining them on the Adrestia just yet, he wasn’t going to say anything - she was their best source on both Kleon and Aspasia.

But gods forgive him, he never wanted to let go of Myrinne, no matter the threat of Kosmos. In her arms, Alexios felt safe for the first time in his life. Safer than he felt with Kassandra on the Adrestia, even, and a thousand times safer than with Nikolaus, as much as he loved them. Myrinne’s hugs felt like home, warm and loving and did he mention safe?

And thankfully, Myrinne was just as unwilling to let go of him as Alexios was her.

\----

It was interesting watching Myrinne react to Barnabas.

Kassandra had made it very clear to everyone on the Adrestia that if there was one person she trusted more than anyone else, it was Barnabas. And Barnabas in turn trusted her with everything - his life, his daughter, his crew. 

Herodotus understood, Nikolaus understood, Alexios understood. 

Myrinne didn’t.

If Barnabas was anything, it was Kassandra’s greatest supporter. He was to blame for half the stories of the Eagle Bearer spread throughout Greece and enthusiastically repeated the rest. He called her Athena reborn, a goddess in every way, and his admiration for Kassandra endeared him to Myrinne instantly.

But the second Barnabas had casually referred to Kassandra as his daughter, Myrinne had tensed, her hand squeezing Alexios’s arm tight, and quickly changed the subject, once more turning to Alexios. 

“Silanos is dead, the cult has no power left on these islands. When will we return to my daughter?”

“Kassandra asked us to go to Mykonos first. There’s a group of rebels allied with Sparta fighting to depose another cultist.”

“That will take too long. We should leave for Korinthia immediately. We can help her take down the Monger. I have friends among the hetaerae who can help.”

Alexios shook his head once more - this was practically the same conversation he had gone through with her since revealing himself to her. He understood where she was coming from - upon learning of the cult that hunted her children, that her son had just barely escaped and that had placed a bounty on her daughter’s head, she was even more desperate to see Kassandra again and return to the safety of Sparta.

Kill Pausanias, punch Nikolaus in the face, and never let go of her children again - that was her plan. 

Or the parts Alexios had decided to acknowledge, at least. 

She also thought he should take the Agiad throne after removing Pausanias, and suggested marrying Kassandra to Archidamos’ son Agis to further secure their family’s safety. It had always been her dream, she had said absently, to tie the Agiad and Eurypontid lines together and see her daughter queen, and Pausanias had been her second choice when Kassandra had been born, and the thought of Kassandra marrying Pausanias made Alexios want to vomit. 

She repeated this once more, seemingly trying to wear him down, but before he could once again remind her that he was in no state to be king, not even bothering to touch the issue of his sister’s love life outside of a firm “no,” Barnabas burst out laughing, Herodotus’ chuckle not far behind.

“Abandon your plans for Kassandra, Myrinne, your daughter’s plans for our safety involve a lot of threats and blood, not a royal cage.’”

His mother had frowned at that, turning to the two in disappointment, “There are expectations for Kassandra on account of my father. I do not want to put Kassandra in a cage, as you say, but she will have to follow Sparta’s laws, and at least try to be a proper Spartan woman.”

Barnabas only laughed louder, “Kassandra will change what it means to be a Spartan woman before she conforms to their expectations.”

Myrinne ignored him, turning to Herodotus, “You are Athenians, you must understand the importance of society.”

Alexios glared at Barnabas, who he just knew was about to say something that would really set off Myrinne, and instead dragged his mother away from the two.

“Mater, let’s go for a hunt. I’m feeling boar tonight.”

She nodded, and allowed herself to be pulled away, silent as they approached the horses Myrinne had provided for them, silent as they rode off, and silent until Alexios notched an arrow.

“How did Kassandra meet Barnabas?”

“Jealous, mater?”

“Why does he consider my daughter his own? What happened between them?”

Alexios saw something move in the woods and aimed.

“It’s complicated, but Kassandra trusts Barnabas more than anyone else in this world. He’s the father she chose, and he loves her as much as he loves his daughter Leda. And Herodotus, and Phoibe, and Odessa, Daphnae, the entire crew - they are her family as much as you and me and Nikolaus and Stentor.”

He loosed his arrow, intentionally missing the deer and watching it run off. 

“Kassandra knows what Sparta expects from her,” he said, turning back to Myrinne, “But the first thing you need to know about the daughter you haven’t seen in almost twenty years is that Kassandra will never do anything she doesn’t want to do. And if you try to force her to be anything, she will never forgive you.”

Myrinne was silent for a long time, notching her own arrow.

“Sparta is not kind to women, Alexios. The world is not kind to women. I never found Kassandra’s body, yet I never truly believed she could have lived. Nikolaus and I taught her how to fight, but she had only her spear, and the world is full of wolves. I hoped she was dead, because the alternative was she was raped, tortured, enslaved. And Sparta will expect so much from her, and they will be cruel.”

“Like Kassandra would care.”

“I care! Do you think I want to watch Kassandra ridiculed and hated for everything that she is? Do you want to watch your sister go through that every day for the rest of her life?” She dropped her bow, and gripped Alexios’ hands in hers, “We are the lucky ones. Sparta knows me, even if I lose my political standing, I have friends and respect to fall back on. Sparta knows Nikolaus, they will forgive his desertion and honor him for his service. Sparta does not know my children.”

“But the world is not kind to women.”

She nodded sadly, and Alexios felt his heart sink into his gut as he realized what she was saying. 

He was the grandson of the great king Leonidas, an Agiad heir whether he claimed the throne or not. He would have to spit on everything that made Sparta Spartan for them to truly reject him.

Kassandra had already spit on half of it, and had no qualms disregarding the rest. She was a dishonorable mercenary, unrespected and a pirate in all but name, and proud of it. She would fight for Athens as easily as Sparta to achieve her goals and her only real loyalty was to her family, and while he didn’t know whether her plans for this life included children, he knew that she would never send any sons or daughters to die on the shields.

She was a misthios, an exile, an uncompromising pain in the ass.

And Alexios realized how important his family’s moves in the next year would be - and he desperately hope Kassandra had too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo long time no update! Classes and work got pretty busy and with my finals this week, the next chapter might be another week or two - but the story continues!
> 
> I had a lot of difficulty with this chapter because as much as I wanted to focus on the love between mother and son, reunited at last, it wasn't that simple. For one, Alexios hasn't had a mother for most of his life - the closest thing was Chrysis and that 100% doesn't count. Secondly, Myrinne grew up the daughter of a king and has been involved in Spartan politics for the majority of her life. Knowing that both Kassandra and Alexios are alive and being hunted by a powerful cult has got to terrify her, and it only makes sense that she would fall back into what she knows - politics. But she also hardly knows her children anymore, especially Kassandra who is a favorite of the Greek rumor mill, and has no idea how they will fit into the happy life she is desperate to reclaim.
> 
> Alexios on the other hand, is very smart, but has spent his entire life acting as a weapon, never having to think about politics. He assumed that because Kassandra can kick any ass on the planet, that she would just beat up anyone in Sparta who disagreed with her, and that would solve everything. The game makes it seem that Kleon (and other Athenian cultists) were Deimos' handlers and taught him that Spartans were dumb brutes, so of course Kassandra being the baddest bitch on the block would mean everyone would like her - power demands respect after all. 
> 
> As for her issues with Barnabas, Myrinne seemed very fixated on bloodlines in game, and I don't necessarily see her being the most comfortable with Barnabas and Kassandra's father-daughter relationship, especially compared to the rest of the family. Nikolaus claimed both Kassandra and Stentor as his children despite no biological relation and I see Alexios' history with the cult making him desperate for connection (something I plan to explore in later chapters), while it appeared that it was important to Myrinne that Kassandra go find Pythagoras, her "real father." 
> 
> Maybe not the most popular takes but I'm happy to debate in comments, just let me finish my finals first :)
> 
> Next up, Kassandra refuses to put Phoibe in danger OR let her out of her sight. When planning to take down a monster like the Monger, this makes things rather difficult.


	17. Korinthia II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra and Co. take down the Monger.

Kassandra was loath to let her girl out of her sight, so when Phoibe excused herself from the camp to grab her things from Erinne’s place and say her goodbyes to the woman who cared for her the past year and the boy who was half in love with her, Kassandra hoisted her up on her shoulders and carried her through Korinth, even as Phoibe protested that she was fine to walk through town herself.

The protests were half joking and quickly abandoned so Kassandra didn’t really think Phoibe truly cared, especially when Phoibe proudly introduced Kassandra to anyone she even sort of knew as her big sister. 

She supposed it was true now. They were sisters by law, not just by choice. Phoibe had chosen for Nikolaus to adopt her into their household, and that was good enough under Spartan law.

And Phoibe told Erinne and Dorios as much, and Erinne, having known Kassandra’s plan to bring Phoibe to the safety of Sparta since Kephallonia, only smiled sadly as Phoibe excitedly told them about Nikolaus and Brasidas and Aketes. Dorios asked her to stay, but was quick to offer to help her pack once Phoibe promised to visit him. Kassandra sat with Erinne in her small kitchen.

“Once I remove the cultists from Sparta, you and Dorios will be welcome in Lakonia,” she promised, but Erinne shook her head.

“I like it here. My cousin is here and I’ve made friends. It is only the Monger that concerns me and I have every confidence that he will be dead by the time you and Phoibe leave Korinthia.”

“Within the week. Brasidas’ time here has helped us narrow down the best places to strike, and Aketes’ connections among the heterae have been tracking the guards’ schedules. There shouldn’t be any fighting in the town, but be careful just in case.”

Erinne nodded, “You will come visit?”

“Of course. Once we kill the Monger, Phoibe and I will be going to Boeotia to visit the Daughters of Artemis. Daphnae wrote to me that Nyx is in good health and will be meeting us at a camp near Thebes.”

\----

Dorios had kissed Phoibe’s cheek as the two left and Phoibe couldn’t stop blushing which meant Kassandra was never going to let it go.

At least this was her plan.

Then the little shit brought up how Kassandra blushed whenever she brought up Daphnae and watched Brasidas with far too appreciative a gaze to be simply friendly.

Kassandra had never been so proud, but she didn’t feel like Phoibe talking about her potential love life around Nikolaus - and definitely not Brasidas or Daphnae. 

So she bribed Phoibe to shut up with a promise to get Daphnae to give her a lesson in archery that she had already planned to do and convince Brasidas to train her with a spear that he had already offered to and Phoibe smiled in a way that meant she 100% knew that Kassandra was fucking with her and agreed to keep quiet.

So the two made it to the camp armed with blackmail on the other and a deer slung over Kassandra’s shoulders, Phoibe running slightly ahead with her things boasting of her kill as Kassandra reminded her to stay close. Nikolaus cheered Phoibe on just as excitedly as he used to cheer Kassandra on and Brasidas congratulated her on such a fine shot (Phoibe had caught the stag right in the jugular) while Aketes clapped her on the back as Achilles gave her a wet kiss.

Kassandra would have thought it home, if it weren’t for all the people missing.

\----

“Keep your feet aligned with your shoulders. Knees bent slightly,” Brasidas said, and Phoibe adjusted her stance accordingly. “Now move your hands down. That will give you more control.”

Kassandra and Nikolaus and Aketes finally turned away from the two as Phoibe once again adjusted her stance, Aketes pointing to the square that represented one of the Monger’s hideouts in the map they had drawn in the dirt.

“Around midday, about half the guards go to the market to eat and there’s a short period of time before the next shift comes, but not long enough to clear the rest of the place and burn their supplies.”

“How many stay?”

“Between ten and fifteen of the twenty-five always there.”

“And the Monger will not be there?”

Aketes shook his head at Nikolaus’ question, “Likely not.”

Brasidas joined them, Phoibe now practicing some basic moves with the long stick Kassandra had roughly carved into a point, and added bitterly, “The Monger is less active during the day, too busy torturing in his lair, if what Anthousa says is true.”

“The Abron House,” Kassandra said, “North of the market. Phoibe showed me.”

And knowing that Phoibe had been doing her own investigation on the Monger had terrified her, meaning that the second Brasidas had left Phoibe to her practice, Kassandra had turned to watch her sister, Achilles alert at her side and Ikaros on lookout above.

“Keep your knees bent.”

“Yes, Kassandra.”

Brasidas nodded at them before turning back to Nikolaus, “General, what do you suggest?”

“You and I should be able to clear out the hideout ourselves, but we would need to keep reinforcements from coming before we burn the supplies,” he turned to Aketes, “Would the hetaerae be able to help?”

He shook his head, “The Monger has practically banished them from town, and they are not fighters. To cause a distraction would risk them too much. But I have friends in town - I may be able to convince some to help steal the Monger’s supplies if you can keep the reinforcements busy.”

“What about the men in town?”

“They won’t return until it’s too late to stop us, but they might take their anger out on the city.”

“As will the Monger.”

“How many friends can you gather, Aketes?”

“Four or five. The Monger is despised.”  
Kassandra beckoned Phoibe over and the two women sat to look at the map a second, Phoibe estimating where the Abron House was, and after a moment, Kassandra grinned.

“We can destroy the Monger in a single day. Get your friends together tonight, Aketes, and Brasidas, tell Anthousa she can have him.”

\----

They waited two days to strike, mostly so the group could scrounge up “armor” for Phoibe and Kassandra could force as much training as possible down her throat. 

Phoibe wasn’t really part of the plan but Kassandra wasn’t taking any chances. 

So two days later, at midday, the two waited on the outskirts of town. Phoibe sat hidden with her bow on a nearby roof, wearing a modified old pair of Kassandra’s bracers and a leather jerkin that was too big, and Kassandra watched from the shadows, dark armor hidden under a cloak and Achilles at her side, wishing should could have convinced Phoibe that a helmet too small was still better than no helmet. Brasidas and Nikolaus were hidden somewhere between Korinth and the pig farm, with Aketes and his friends to the south with Ikaros.

She had to trust Nikolaus and Brasidas and Aketes would succeed, that Ikaros wouldn’t signal the Spartans to attack until after the guards were far enough away, that they would be able to clear the camp in time to meet the reinforcements, that Aketes and his crew would be able to steal the supplies in time and burn the rest, and most importantly, that the Monger didn’t show up and ruin everything.

So she waited and hoped that her plan worked, eyes darting over to Phoibe every few seconds until her sister gave the signal, her one contribution to the plan, that she saw the guards. She let them pass her, then with a shrug lost her cloak and stepped out with a whistle and a feral grin.

The Arai armor did its job, turning each of the goons pale in fear, and Kassandra made a mental note to thank Nikolaus and Barnabas, the former for the idea and armor, and Barnabas for spreading highly detailed rumors of the Arai in every port. 

She attacked before they even had a chance to draw their weapons, and they were dead in mere minutes. Achilles had killed those who wisely chose to run rather than face her and Kassandra recognized the fletching of Phoibe’s arrows in the bodies of two men, two buried in one’s chest and another in a man’s throat. She took a moment to nod at Phoibe in approval before focusing on step two.

And they ran through town, Kassandra helping Phoibe across the rooftops as Achilles ran to join Brasidas and Nikolaus in their fight.  
But the Abron House was empty save a days old rotting corpse.

\----

Brasidas:

The Monger showed up with the reinforcements and he and Nikolaus shared a look of panic.

Kassandra had promised to take him without killing him and neither of them were skilled enough to do so. It would be difficult enough to kill that monster of a man one on one, and they were two to twenty. 

“For Sparta,” he said, and from under his helm, Nikolaus met his eyes.

“For Kassandra,” he responded, and Brasidas had to agree.

“For Kassandra,” he agreed, and the two jumped into battle. 

There were more than the expected, and far more skilled. Brasidas managed to kill one before being forced on the defensive and Nikolaus fared no better. Worse perhaps, as the Monger took an interest in the mysterious soldier who killed two to Brasidas’ one, promising to knock his head off with his helm.

Swing. Dodge. Jab. Duck. Jump. Punch. Block. Run.

He killed another, and one more, before a mace caught him in the side by surprise. He rolled and avoided the killing blow, managing to knock the man down with his shield and another with a sweep of his spear. He abandoned the kill, though, making it just in time to block a strike to Nikolaus’ head, the older man distracted by the Monger. 

The two fought back to back, Brasidas managing to kill another as Nikolaus took down another and landed a blow to the Monger, but they were both injured. Brasidas assumed he had at least a bruised rib, and blood was flowing from under Nikolaus’ helmet.

Their saving grace came in the form of a dark wolf lunging at the Monger, ripping a chunk of flesh from his shoulder. The man bellowed in pain, giving the Spartans a chance to attack as their foes turned to the wolf. 

Achilles dodged, grabbed another thug’s leg, and tore it off at the knee. Nikolaus lunged at the Monger, and Brasidas turned to the others. 

They were ten or so to three now, and Brasidas managed to kill two more and cripple a third when he heard a yelp. He blocked a sword and spun to look. 

Achilles was panting in pain, Nikolaus standing over him protectively. The Monger’s mace clipped him in the head, the general unable to dodge fully, and Nikolaus’ helm went flying. 

The Monger jerked back in surprise, before laughing loudly.

“The Wolf of Sparta! Kosmos will truly reward me for your head!”

An arrow sprouted in his shoulder before he had the chance to move, the two men beside him dying within a breath after, arrows lodged in their throats.

And then Kassandra dropped her bow and lept into action, flinging herself off Phobos at the Monger and a dagger at the man behind him, as Phoibe loosed an arrow from Phobos’ back, the horse already moving her out of harm's way.

Brasidas took a second to watch Kassandra disarm the Monger by taking his arm at the elbow before spinning to join the fight once more. 

With Phoibe and Kassandra’s help, it was over quickly. Phoibe was a natural archer even from horseback and Brasidas couldn’t even begin to describe Kassandra in battle.

Beautiful. Incredible. Divine.

She was lounged on the ground, knee casually pressed against the Monger’s neck, and even though the brute was missing both hands, an eye, and had an arrow in his shoulder and a poisoned dagger in his calf, Brasidas wished it was him for a moment. 

Beautiful. Incredible. Divine. 

Wise. Funny. Lovely. 

Majestic. Strong. Regal.

Kassandra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to make their plan smart, but please feel free to use your imagination to pretend it's a work of genius!
> 
> I really wanted to focus on Kassandra and Phoibe's sisterhood this chapter with a side of Brasidas crushing on Kassandra, and since character relationships are the real love of my life (no offense to my wonderful BF who reads), I guess the Monger also had to be dealt with so that happened too. Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> As for some upcoming chapters, expect some BIG changes from canon. Kosmos lost their favorite weapon and even though Kassandra and Co. are dropping them like flies, they still have some serious power in Greece and are willing to do anything to keep it (Don't worry - our favorite girl will get the happy ending she goddamn deserves). It's all written down in my outline, but actually writing is slow going because AC Valhalla is fucking amazing and taking up a lot of my free time. Do not be surprised if you see some Eivor drabbles from me showing up in the AC tag sometime soon, but this fic takes priority!
> 
> Next up, the Adrestia lands on Mykonos and Alexios has a life changing realization.


	18. Mykonos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as Alexios' sexual awakening.

Alexios liked to consider himself a smart man, but he would be the first to admit that some things were not his forte. It wasn’t his fault - being raised as a human weapon by a cult intent on world domination meant there were going to be some gaps in his education. 

But this particular gap was one he had never even considered.

They had spent another week in Naxos, his mother both anxious to get on her way to Argolis and Kassandra and unwilling to leave her island without setting up a replacement archon. She had promoted Timo with the support of both her lieutenants and her people, and mother and son negotiated a peace with Paros before leaving.

By mother and son, of course, Alexios meant that Myrinne handled the negotiations while Alexios tossed Silanos’ head into the middle of the room and stood behind her menacingly after a grunt of “figure it out” to the horrified Parians. 

Myrinne had been disappointed in him, hoping to include him and use the opportunity to teach him politics and start molding him into a king, but Alexios and Hektor had convinced her that it was better for her and Timo to handle the treaty - the Parians knew them, archon and successor, where Alexios was a hired thug in their eyes.

He did pay close attention during the meeting though, surprisingly himself with how quickly he caught on to the intricacies of political language and manipulation. He supposed it was the one (barely, hardly, only slightly) good thing from being raised by Kleon and Aspasia - they were natural politicians and intentional or not, their teachings had rubbed off on him. 

His mater had claimed it to be the blood of Leonidas and Gorgo when he told her as much, and while he knew it wasn’t true, he decided he liked that explanation better. It better served their plan as well - once Alexios cautiously agreed to at least attempt to claim the Agiad throne. 

Kassandra had suffered enough and deserved for her second chance at life to go as smoothly as possible. If that meant Alexios needed to use both his physical and political strength to crush her enemies before they could hurt her, he would.

So with that in mind, the Adrestia set sail to Mykonos to assist Kyra.

Kassandra had given him a little information about Kyra and Thalatas, the Spartan who assumed command following the death of his generals.

Kyra was devoted to her people and Artemis, strong and determined, and the daughter of the very cultist she sought to destroy. Whether or not Alexios told Kyra of her connection to Podarkes was up to him she said, though she advised on keeping that information secret from the rebels under command no matter what.

Thaletas was a staunch Spartiate, loyal and honorable, but also hot headed and glory hungry. Kassandra recommended gaining his trust by retrieving his grandfather’s helmet for him, and staying humble when praised for his victories. 

Yet he got the feeling that she left some things unsaid, and Barnabas had filled in the blanks, his sister having told him the story.

Kassandra’s time on Mykonos had been full of sorrow and heartbreak. 

Kyra and Thaletas had thought themselves in love, but unsure whether their connection was true or one born out of war and necessity. Both had expressed an interest in his sister, and finding Kyra beautiful and strong and unsure of where she stood with Daphnae, Kassandra had started a relationship with the rebel leader.

Podarkes’ death and the new freedom of the Silver Islands brought celebration, with Kassandra clearly the reason for it all. Thalatas, hurt over Kyra ending their relationship, angry that Kassandra had chosen Kyra over him, and jealous over the praise that even his own men gave Kassandra, went mad, and tried to kill her.

Kassandra confessed to Kyra, who in her grief banished the Eagle Bearer from the islands forever.

His sister had sworn to obey, even in her second life, and sent Alexios instead, with a warning.

Don’t come between Thaletas and Kyra.

He hadn’t thought it would be a problem.

But apparently, he was a fool.

And worse, he was considered desirable.

\----

They arrived at Mykonos in the dead of night, dropping anchor just south of an island on the eastern border, and Alexios swam to show, slipping through the forest to the cave the rebels hid out in.

He was greeted by drunk soldiers holding spears to his neck and a knife flying at his face.

“Malakas! I’m here to help!”

“Help the Athenians, no doubt, spy,” said the woman who threw the knife embedded in the wood next to his face, and he assumed she was Kyra.

“You Kyra?”

“I might be.”

“You sent a message to the Eagle Bearer asking for your help defeating Podarkes.”

Kyra scoffed, “Last I heard the Eagle Bearer was a beautiful woman.”

“My sister was unable to come. She sent me and her crew in her stead while she deals with other business.”

“And how do I know you aren’t lying? You might be pretty but that doesn’t mean you’re related to the Eagle Bearer.”

Alexios gritted his teeth and pulled out the letter Kyra had sent in the first place, angrily thrusting it towards her. She motioned for one of the men holding a spear to his throat to take it.

“It’s your symbol, Kyra,” he said, and Kyra motioned for them to relax. Once the spears were put away, she walked towards Alexios. 

“Does he look like the Eagle Bearer to you, Menippos?”

“She never mentioned a brother in Megaris, but I see the resemblance,” said a Spartan in the corner, and Kyra nodded.

“If your sister is half as handsome as you, I can see why Menippos and the rest of his men fell in love. A shame she couldn’t make it,” she said, and Alexios tried very hard not to blush, “I am Kyra, and I apologize for my initial greeting. Podarkes has been hunting us for months, and you can never be too careful.”

Alexios nodded, “I am here to kill him.”

“Easier said than done,” Menippos said, “We’ve lost half our men against him.”

“Sparta came to our aid, as well, led by their new polemarch Thaletas,” explained Kyra, “We should go to the Spartan camp, he will want to meet you.”

\----

The camp was under attack when they arrived and Alexios happily threw himself into the fray, ripping the first man’s sword out of his hands and driving it into his skull before throwing the corpse at the rest of the Athenians. 

God’s he hadn’t had a good fight in too long. Paros was too easy, but this, these were highly trained Athenian soldiers. Maybe even Kleon’s men.

Alexios was going to enjoy killing them.

And he did. He tore through them, cracking ribs, crushing skulls, sending limbs flying. By the time it was over, there was a pile of bodies around him, he was covered in blood, and he felt more alive than he had since Kassandra let him kill the cyclops on Andros.

Kyra brought over a Spartan that Alexios assumed was Thaletas, both giving him a weird look that he shook off, bowing his head just a little.

“You must be Thaletas. I’ve come to help kill Podarkes.”

“Well met. Spartan?”

“Enough. I’m Alexios.”

Kyra cut in, “The Eagle Bearer’s brother,” and Alexios nodded.

“Podarkes is a member of a cult that hunts our family. Kassandra and Pater followed a lead on another cultist in Korinthia. The Monger.”

“I’ve heard of him. Causing a lot of problems for our allies in the north,” Thalatas said, “Before we came to Mykonos, Pausinias was talking about sending a party to take care of him.”

Menippos cut in, “Wait, the Eagle Bearer said her father was dead.”

Another Spartan chimed in, “And her name was Idole!”

Alexios took a breath and put on his “Deimos face,” as Kassandra called it, and the two shrunk back, “You some of the malakas that kept bothering her in Megaris?”

The nameless Spartan sputtered something about Stentor and if Thaletas tried and failed to hide a smile and if Alexios just barely managed to keep his blush from ruining his “Deimos face,” well that was no one’s business but his own.

“I assure you that our brother was the one Spartiate not bothering Kassandra,” he said, and waited.

Thaletas was the first to figure it out, and Alexios smiled as he turned to the older man.

“Brother? That would mean Nikolaus - ”

“Is my father.”

“And Myrinne?”

“My mother.”

“Leonidas?”

“My grandfather? Yes.”

The Spartans just stood there for a minute, and it was Kyra who finally broke the silence.

“Doesn’t that make you one of the kings of Sparta?”

“Once I’ve killed the cultist Pausinias? It will.”

It was silent once more as the Spartans processed his words, and once more Thaletas was the one to break the silence.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read some of my comments/responses, you'd know I'm not the biggest fan of the Kyra/Thaletas/Kassandra romance, but I love the Mykonos story arc so thus begins my twist! We'll be in Mykonos for the next few chapters (with maybe a brief interlude catching up with our girl) and Alexios is going to get his first romantic storyline! 
> 
> I see Alexios as being incredibly inexperienced in matters of the heart (side effect of being kidnapped by a cult) so expect him to be super awkward as both Kyra and Thaletas go from subtly flirting to basically throwing themselves at the oblivious Alexios. In all honesty though, I don't really ship Alexios with Kyra or Thaletas so these won't be long term romances, but I promise, Alexios will find love!
> 
> Next up - Kyra and Thaletas try to get Alexios' attention.


	19. Mykonos II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexios reflects on some things with a new friend

Listening to Kyra and Thaletas argue about how they should kill Podarkes, Alexios knew the real reason Kassandra had refused to go back to the islands.

They were practically arguing the same damn thing, they both were trying way too hard to get him on their side, and all Alexios wanted to do was smash their heads together and tell them to shut up.

That’s what you do when grown men and women are acting like children, right?

“Enough!” he finally decided, standing up and silencing the two, “I don’t need to listen to this lover’s quarrel. Once you realize that we should weaken Podarkes’ forces and then kill him in a head-on assault, I’ll be waiting at my ship.”

And so Alexios left, ignoring the majority of their sputtering - except for one tiny little tidbit of very important information.

Kyra and Thaletas were not together.

And the latter caught up to him before he had barely managed to get out of the cave.

“I think Kyra is having trouble accepting that she isn’t the one making all the decisions anymore,” the general said, and Alexios nodded.

“And from what I understand, Spartans are rather resistant to taking orders,” he added, and Thaletas grinned. 

“Particular, not resistant. We listen to our generals and our ephors. And our kings most of all,” he said with a leer, looking Alexios up and down, “Even if you aren’t king yet.”

“Gods, don’t remind me.”

“Not looking forward to ruling Sparta?”

“It’s all to protect my family. Kassandra especially.”

Thaletas was silent for a moment, “Is General Nikolaus alive?” Alexios nodded, and Thaletas frowned, “He abandoned his men. Sparta will not forgive that easily.”

“Kassandra has a plan for that. A plan for everything really.”

“If your sister has a plan for everything, why are -”

“Becoming king to protect her? Because she is going to manage to turn everyone important in Sparta against her and her solution will be to kill them all or leave forever.”

“So it’s really for the greater good then?”

“For Kass to have a home that isn’t the Adrestia. Her ship,” He clarified. 

“And that’s where we’re going?”

Alexios grinned, “That’s where I’m going. You just decided to follow me.”

Thaletas grinned back, “What kind of Spartan would I be if I didn’t guard my king in this foreign land?” Then he gestured to Alexios in an exaggerated sweeping motion. “Not that you aren’t truly exceptional with your sword. I’d love to see what you could do with a spear.”

“I prefer the sword and fighting close. I doubt anyone other than Kassandra could beat me in such a fight. An archer would cause problems, though,” he said without shame and completely oblivious to Thalatas’ leer and innuendo, the memory that Aletheia had shown him of Kleon’s arrow in his back in the forefront of his mind.

“Archers always cause problems,” Thaletas agreed, “That’s why we go for the marksmen first in battle. That’s why the Daughters of Artemis are so dangerous.”

“Kassandra has allied herself with the leader of the Daughters of Artemis,” he said, absentmindedly, and Thaletas stared at him for a second.

“Are you saying that your sister has created an alliance between Sparta and the Daughters of Artemis?”

“Gods no! They like Kassandra, not the rest of us. No idea why though, she’s a pain in the ass. I’ll have to ask Artemisia and Korinna - hopefully they will already be back at the ship. I should have asked Kyra if they had met up with her at all.”

“The Daughters of Artemis are on Mykonos?” Thaletas asked, the disbelief from his first question giving way to a strangled noise, and Alexios belatedly remembered the historical rivalry between the Daughters of Artemis and Sparta (and everyone else in Greece) and realized he maybe shouldn’t have said anything.

“Just two? And they joined Kassandra on the Adrestia? So I don’t know if that counts?”

Thaletas stopped, staring at Alexios until the latter rolled his eyes and stopped as well. 

“Your sister sounds like a force of nature. I hope I get to meet her one day.”

“Will you be returning to Sparta following Podarkes’ death? Or will you be staying on Mykonos?”

“To Sparta. Some of my men may stay and help Kyra and her rebels set up a new government but as their Polemarch, I will have to go back and report to the kings. Perhaps you will be one of them by then.”

Alexios shook his head, and the two continued to walk until the port and the Adrestia were just in sight over the hill, and he stopped to point out the ship to Thaletas, “You will likely make it back to Sparta before we do. Once Podarkes is dead, we sail for Argos. Kassandra will be going to meet Daphnae near Thebes before meeting us off the coast of Argolis. By then, Nikolaus and Stentor should have arrived, and then we will sail to Sparta together.”

“Have you met Nikolaus, since, you know?” He asked, delicately, and Alexios appreciated the Spartan’s attempt at tact.

“I have. I punched him in the face and threw him off the Adrestia and have begun to forgive him.”

“And Kassandra?”

“Loves him, maybe even forgives him, even if she will never call him Pater again.”

Thaletas nodded, before continuing in the same delicate tone, eyes subtly fixed on Alexios to watch his reaction, “I’ve actually met Kassandra before. She’s hard to forget, really, being the granddaughter of Leonidas after all, but she’s seared into my memory. Nikolaus was training her at home and set her on the agoge with a grin I’ll never forget. We were all confident that we could knock her down, thinking the few years we had on this stubborn little girl was going to guarantee us our victory.”

“Never assume victory over Kassandra,” Alexios added, and Thaletas grinned. 

“I was one of the first she fought, maybe third overall, my group being only a little older. She knocked my on my ass and then smacked me with her staff so hard that I can still remember the bruise I woke up with a few days later. She beat everyone, even the oldest boys your father brought her. He was so proud of her, and promised to bring her again the next year, maybe even enter her in the agoge. We were terrified for that day, yet it never came, because,” he grimaced, “Well, you know.”

“You are an exceptional warrior, Alexios, and if you say Kassandra is far greater than you? I believe it. She was great when she was a little kid full of spite and rage and determination when she had everything she could have ever wanted. And to lose it all in one night? I can’t imagine what that would have done to her. But I saw what it did to Nikolaus. He ripped out his heart when he threw Kassandra from Taygeteos, and he’s been a broken man ever since.”

“Are you defending him?”

“No. He’s like a father to me, to every boy that leaves the agoge a man, and I mourned him when I heard he was dead. But even though it was Spartan law he followed when he threw Kassandra to her death, he never forgave himself, and he made damn sure none of us did either. To hear you are beginning to forgive him? That Kassandra might? It’s truly unbelievable.” 

And so Alexios, uncomfortable with emotional conversations and unsure of what the soft smile Thaletas wore was doing to him, changed the subject.

“What’s truly unbelievable is that Kassandra and I fought and killed a cyclops on Andros island. An actual beast of legend, not some one eyed bandit like the one that tormented Kassandra and Phoibe on Kephallonia.”

“A cyclops,” his friend stated, “An actual cyclops?”

He could hear the disbelief in Thaletas’ voice and grinned in response, “Big nasty bastard. Lived in a cave, ate humans, one ugly eye. Kassandra let me kill it.”

“Let you?”

“She figured I had some rage to express, so she basically stood aside to make sure it didn’t kill me and occasionally shot an arrow. Really helped with the whole forgiving Nikolaus thing. Wish I had another fight like that now.”

"Why?"

“My mater.”

“Your mother? Myrinne?”

“As awful as it sounds, yes. It’s difficult to talk with her.”

Thaletas motioned for Alexios to go on, and he did, legs practically collapsing beneath him as the words tumbled out of his mouth, “It was easy, with Nikolaus, somehow. I guess because he knew he fucked up. He didn’t expect love, or forgiveness. He didn’t even want it, really, because he didn’t think he deserved it. When Kassandra met with Nikolaus and Stentor in Megaris, he thought she was going to kill him. Stentor too, and from what he said to Kassandra, he couldn’t say our pater didn’t deserve it. But I haven’t met him. I don’t know my brother. Or my little sister. I don’t even know when I will meet them.”

“Sister?”

“Phoibe. An orphan Kassandra met on Kephallonia. Her sister. Kass would have taken her when she left if she was going anywhere but Megaris, but promised to go back and bring her to Sparta when it was safe. I think that’s the only reason she’s bothering to go back to Sparta. To keep Phoibe safe. Not that a city that throws children off a mountain is really safe,” he snarled, picking up a rock near his sandal and throwing it off the hill and wishing more than anything that Kassandra was here.

Thaletas sat down next to him, and Alexios turned away from him to stare at the Adrestia, “Mater keeps telling me stories of Sparta. Of our life there. And it’s hard to hear, not like you talking about Kassandra, because I know that all she wants is for things to go back to the way they were. As if we can erase the past and all that came with it. That Kassandra will abandon her life on the Adrestia and marry for an alliance and pop out a few sons to die on their shields. That I can forget the years I was tortured by Kosmos and all that pain and anger and become king. And I understand!”

He didn’t know when he had started yelling. He didn’t know when he had started crying. But he took a deep breath and composed himself, wiping the tears from his eyes and continuing in a low voice.

“We were a family in Sparta. Safe. Whole. Happy. And for all the grief and pain since that day, it’s what mater remembers best. And she doesn’t know all that happened to me. All that happened to Kassandra. We don’t remember. That image doesn’t bring the same comfort to us as it does her.”

He was silent then, Thaletas as well, until finally, the older man spoke, soft and gentle, asking a question that Alexios hadn’t dared ask himself.

“What brings you comfort?”

Images flashed through his mind. Kassandra shouting advice as he fought the cyclops on Andros. Myrinne holding his face in her hands before wrapping him in her arms on Naxos. Nikolaus’ kind words as he presented him a lion skin cape before he left with Kassandra for Megaris. Barnabas teaching him songs on the Adrestia and Herodotus debating politics with him. Hearing stories of Phoibe and Stentor, learning to love his brother and sister before he even met them.

Thaletas being kind enough to sit and listen on this cliff, all laughter and soft smiles and kind eyes, and with that, Alexios leaned over to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first chapter of this fic that is one long scene, but Alexios and Thalatas' conversation got away from me a bit, and I started having all these feelings about Nikolaus and Myrinne and Alexios most of all and this felt like a good place to end it - gotta preserve some of Alexios' modesty! But if you, like me, have way too many feelings about this dysfunctional family, I would love to talk about it in the comments!
> 
> Next chapter, we continue to follow Alexios' journey in Mykonos and get a small update on our favorite girl.


	20. Mykonos III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexios can escape the cult but he can't escape motherly interrogations.

The last thing Alexios expected was to wake up to a very familiar bird on his chest and nipping oh so gently at his nose.

Then he remembered all that had happened last night, the cautious kisses, the fumbling hands, falling on a lion skin cape and wrapping himself in Thaletas’ cloak at the end because it was cold and he didn’t want to deal with clothes - gods he truly hoped that whatever strange magic bound Ikaros and Kassandra was useless over such a distance because he didn’t need her to see the aftermath of last night.

Then he blinked and realized he had an audience. 

A second blink, and it was Kyra and Barnabas standing there, and even if he didn’t have Aletheia occasionally chiming in he would know the gods we were and on his side because his mother wasn’t there.

Then, he saw the smirk on Barnabas’ face that told him Kassandra would definitely be hearing about this and took a moment to wonder if his sister would forgive him if he killed all the witnesses.

Kyra looked him up and down, trying to hide a smile as Alexios made sure he was covered by the cape, and laughing as he felt his ears and cheeks burn red, and gently prodded Thaletas awake with her toe.

“Fun night?” She asked Thaletas, with a smile, and Alexios once again considered the merits of leaving no witnesses as Thaletas propped himself up on his forearms with no shame and a pleased smile.

“Jealous?” he asked, with a broad smile at Alexios, and he had to smile back, some of the awkwardness he felt melting away.

“Quite,” she responded, before turning to Alexios with a grin, “Feel free to invite me next time.”

And the blush was back, and he wrapped Thaletas’ cape around himself as he went looking for his chiton with a scowl, storming away from the trio to dress.

Thaletas was far more clothed when he returned, and Alexios handed him his bracers as they began to put their armor back on.

“Ikaros is here,” Alexios said, turning to Barnabas, and the old man grinned at his glare.

“He brought a letter from Kassandra, and when Kyra came looking for you two this morning, offered his services to ensure your bodies weren’t rotting away. Myrinne is very worried.”

“Mater knows I can take care of myself.”

“Mothers worry about their children, it’s what they do.”

“And Kassandra?”

“Riding to Boeotia with Phoibe after celebrating the death of the Monger while Nikolaus and Brasidas gather evidence against Pausinias on their way to Argos.”

“Phoibe?”

“Erinne took her and Dorios to Korinth after plague threatened Kephallonia.”

“Boeotia is a war zone right now, and she’s taking a child there?” Thaletas asked, and Barnabas shrugged.

“Phoibe is safer with Kassandra than anywhere else in Greece,” Barnabas explained, handing Alexios two letters, one opened and addressed to the older man and the other addressed to Alexios.

“Brother,

Another cultist is dead and I am headed north to my huntress and my wolf. I have our little sister with me, and you’ll be proud to know she is excellent with a bow. Perhaps she will help me kill a particularly annoying pest on our way south, while our pater and some friends, new and old, deal with an archon.

I wish you luck, and hope you’ll give our mater a kiss from me. My dear feathered friend is yours until the island is freed.

Your loving sister

My most optimistic friend,

My target is dead, stoned to death by a vengeful city. A couple of our favorite Spartans and a trusted lieutenant will deal with a traitorous archon and gather more evidence against the cultist king. Kephallonia has been ravaged by plague, but my little sister is safe, brought from the island by Erinne and adopted by an old wolf. I confess I plan for her to never leave my sight again and promised her an archery lesson from my huntress as I deliver a pelt. If we are invited to a symposium on our way south, and I am happy to deliver a message to any of our friends unlucky enough to still be in the same city as another pest on my list.

I do hope you haven’t thrown my brother overboard yet - he can be rather annoying but I trust him to protect my ship and my crew in my absence. If you must get rid of him, throw him towards some pirate and let him have some fun. You might even get him to smile. 

Tell our historian that if all goes well, I found a very interesting artifact he might enjoy to study and do not rush his letters to our friends, my messenger will be assisting my brother until the rebellion is done.

Continue to avoid one eyed bandit leaders with delicate egos.

Your commander”

“Awfully afraid of someone reading her letters, isn’t she?” Barnabas commented when Alexios finished and looked up at the very interested crowd.

“Perhaps she doesn’t trust you,” he teased, handing his letter to the very curious Thaletas and Kyra and the other back to its intended, and Barnabas laughed as he took it.

“To not say the wrong thing at the wrong time? Of course she doesn’t! That’s why we keep Herodotus around, after all.” Alexios watched the man carefully fold up the letter and tuck it into the hidden compartment in his bracer, and suddenly realized that for all his bragging and jokes about Kassandra divine strength and power, he had been worried for her safety ever since she had ridden off that day in Athens. “It seems she doesn’t trust you to deal with Podarkes,” he continued, tone teasing to ensure Thaletas and Kyra knew there was no truth in his words, “saying she sent someone to supervise you.”

Ikaros nipped at his finger, clearly slightly offended at being referred to as a babysitter when he was clearly here as the greatest tool Kassandra could give him being so far away. Alexios may not be able to look through Ikaros’ eyes like his sister could, but Kassandra had spent some time teaching him how to understand Ikaros’ chirps and calls.

He understood the chirp that meant enemies were near and the call that signaled an all clear and could manage a passable rendition of the low whistle that meant “please rip out someone’s eyes for me please and thank you.”

“Who are the friends traveling with General Nikolaus?” Thaletas asked him suddenly, and only knowing Brasidas was one of them but not whether Kassandra would be foolish enough to refer to him as an old friend in her carefully written letter, Alexios turned and gestured to Barnabas, assuming he knew.

“My old friend Aketes, my second on the Adrestia, and Brasidas of Sparta. At least, that’s my best guess.”

“Brasidas was sent to Korinth right before we left Sparta, yes, that makes sense. The archon mentioned? The pest?”

“Lagos of Arkadia and Kleon of Athens. The former’s family is held captive under Pausinias’ orders and the latter a slippery brute who has managed to escape Kassandra’s spear far too many times already,” Alexios said, and the two nodded. 

“The huntress?” Kyra asked, with quite a bit of interest, and Alexios grinned.

“Daphnae, the leader of the Daughters of Artemis. Speaking of, have you met two women, Artemisia and Korinna? They haven’t been here long, but we dropped them off on our way to Naxos, and I forgot to ask them when they returned.”

Kyra’s eyes lit up, “The Daughters of Artemis are here?”

Thalatas spoke before Alexios or Barnabas could, “Two, sailing on the Adrestia. Apparently, Kassandra has allied herself with them.”

“Incredible,” Kyra breathed, before motioning for them to follow her once she had already started moving, “I want to meet them.”

Barnabas laughed at that, and Alexios started to follow, ready to chime in as Barnabas began to tell Kyra about Daphnae, when Thaletas gripped his wrist and asked him to wait.

The general then straightened himself, hands clasped behind his back and eyes fixed on something just past Alexios’ ear, and cleared his throat.

“King Alexios, I must apologize for my actions last night. I have clearly caused you great shame and - ”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Thaletas?” 

Then the man had the audacity to blush and stammer out something about how embarrassed Alexios had been when they had woken up that morning.

“That was because Barnabas was there! And he’s going to tell Kassandra! And this is the first lover I’ve ever had and she’s going to be so excited to tease me about it!”

Then Alexios, suddenly realizing he had just admitted that Thaletas was his first and the man was beaming at the confession, surged forward, captured his lips in a searing kiss, and pulled away with a grin, feeling freer than he ever had before.

“I regret nothing.”

And then he turned and fled, Ikaros close behind.

Maybe Kassandra had sent the eagle to babysit him.

\----

“Mater!” he said with a smile, and Myrinne rose to meet him, the worried look on her face melting away as he moved to embrace her, planting a loud kiss on her forehead, “From Kassandra,” he explained before giving her another, “And from me.”

“Nice to see you smiling, lamb, and even better to see you safe,” she said, holding his face in her hands, “Did your sister say anything important?”

“Nothing she didn’t tell you, I’m sure,” he said, gesturing to the long letter she had put aside to greet him, “The Monger is dead, Phoibe safe with her, and she will meet us in Argos after she leaves Boeotia.”

“Nikolaus is not with her.”

“No, Nikolaus joined with Brasidas and Aketes to deal with a cultist in Arkadia.”

“Brasidas. That name sounds familiar.”

“A Spartan spy. One of our best,” Thaletas said, having finally arrived with Barnabas, Alexios assuming Kyra had been distracted by the Daughters of Artemis. Myrinne straightened and studied the newcomer, eyes fixed on Thaletas.

He stood at attention and slightly bowed, “I am Thaletas, the leader of the Spartan men who came to aid Kyra’s rebellion against Podarkes. And you are Myrinne, daughter of King Leonidas and mother of Alexios and Kassandra.”

“Mother to Phoibe and Stentor, as well,” she said, “If they accept me as such.”

Alexios hadn’t known how much he feared she would reject his brother and little sister before she claimed them as her own until then, and breathed a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off his chest.

Thaletas grinned at that, and continued, “It is good to see you well, and soon to be together with all your children, home in Sparta.”

Myrinne studied him for a second, “How old are you Thaletas?”

“Twenty-six, my lady.”

“Very young for a general. You trained with my husband in the agoge, did you not?”

It was not a question anyone expected, and Thaletas froze.

“Stentor too, I imagine. From what I’ve heard he’s only a little younger than you.”

The Spartan nodded, “Kassandra once, as well. General Nikolaus brought her to spar with us once.”

Myrinne smiled, only a little bit of sadness creeping through in her eyes, “I remember. She beat you all.”

“She did.”

Myrinne nodded with a smile, and seemed to relax as if Thaletas had passed some unknown test, “I would be very grateful if you would tell me about Stentor. Only Barnabas met him in Megaris, and not for very long.”

“Of course, my lady, but I am afraid it will have to wait. I must get back to my men.”

“Later then. There will be time after Podarkes is dead. Go, see your men. They must be wondering why you didn’t return to the camp last night.”

Alexios and Thaletas both blushed at her grin, the former far more so as the latter bowed once more and fled. Myrinne turned to her son and gestured for him to sit next to her.

“Your hair is a mess, lamb,” and he turned so she could deal with it.

“A handsome man, Thaletas, is he not?” she said, with the tone of someone making conversation, but thankfully, chose not to torture her son any more, addressing her next words to Barnabas, “Aketes sailed with you before, correct?”

“He stayed to assist Stentor in Megaris, gathering information against Pausinias.”

“I thought I recognized the name. But Stentor was not mentioned in Kassandra’s letter. He must not have gone to Korinth.”

“Stentor and Aketes suspected Brasidas might be working with Pausinias. The man’s spy network is a great asset to Sparta, and Stentor feared suspicion would fall on your family if Brasidas was a cultist. Aketes was sent to investigate, and Kassandra and Nikolaus to eliminate him along with the Monger if he had turned.”

That Kassandra was going to ensure he stayed alive was unmentioned, and Alexios shifted uncomfortably at the memory of the man he now knew to be Brasidas, as Deimos disarmed him and thrust his own spear through his skull.

“The Monger was the last cultist to find me before I escaped to Naxos. More monster than man. I am glad he is dead, and Kassandra safe.”

“You met the Monger?”

“Escaped would be the better word. He said the cult would allow him to give me a child. I was worried he would try the same with Kassandra.”

Alexios felt sick, and Myrinne continued, moving past her own musings, “Your father wrote to me.”

“Oh.”

Barnabas took that as his cue to leave, and Myrinne moved to sit in front of her son with a grin.

“How was your night, lamb?”

\----

One long excruciating long motherly interrogation later, Alexios was finally saved by Korinna, who revealed that her sister was hotly debating Kyra on whether one should use two or three fingers when drawing back one’s bow. Myrinne greeted her warmly, the two Daughters of Artemis some of her favorites on the ship.

They were utterly devoted to Kassandra, swearing to follow her anywhere for killing the savage boar that had killed their mother and bringing the pelt as an offering to the goddess. They despised Nikolaus, tolerated Alexios, and adored Myrinne. 

“I believe Artemisia is half in love already,” she said, mostly to Myrinne and a little to Alexios, “Yet Kyra seems rather interested in you.”

That last part is directed to Alexios, accusatory yet teasing, and he shrugs.

“Wouldn’t know why. I’m assuming you hadn’t met Kyra before?”

Korinna shook her head, “We wanted to gather more information on Podarkes first, bring something of value to the rebels. Our order is not necessarily trusted and we didn’t know Kyra would be such an exception. The Spartan general is back, with some of his men, and we are waiting on the two of you.”

Alexios nodded, and mother and son followed her out, back to the war table Barnabas had set up, also known as a crate with a rough hand drawn map of Mykonos and Delos. He took the head of the table, looking around at everyone around him.

Kyra and Thaletas, Barnabas and Herodotus, Myrinne, a couple rebels and a few Spartans, two Daughters of Artemis and the rest of the crew of the Adrestia. Ikaros settled on his shoulder, nipping at his ear and Alexios felt Kassandra’s presence and knew things were going to be okay. 

“Let’s kill Podarkes.”

\----

The moon was barely a sliver in the sky and Alexios was thankful for the cover of darkness as the small party moved to attack the fort. He had limited them to four: Kyra, Korinna, and Thaletas’ second Menippos, the huntress skilled with assassinations and the Spartan light on his feet. Even if Kyra hadn’t been the one who knew the fort the best, there was no keeping her from going, and he was glad to have her bow. 

Alexios had abandoned his lion skin cloak for one of black and swapped his bronze breastplate for one of leather to blend into the night, and he reached down to smear mud on his face and arms to better disappear, the others following suit, as they waited for Ikaros to return.

The eagle let out a long call as he hovered over the brazier and Alexios made note of its location, making sure everyone else saw as well. They all carried a skin full of water at their waist, ready to soak the wood and ensure their prey couldn’t call for reinforcements.

Then Ikaros returned, landing on Alexios’ bracer, and then came the time where he really, really wished he had Kassandra’s ability to see through her eagle’s eyes. 

Because now, he had to talk to the bird.

“How many guards?”

Ikaros ruffled his feathers in a way Alexios was sure Kassandra could understand in an instant but mere mortals could only shrug in confusion at. 

Alexios pointed at the wall closest to them, “What about there?”

One chirp.

“The gate?”

Two chirps, and Alexios felt less foolish.

“And the entrance Kyra mentioned?”

The all clear call.

“Okay. Can you distract the guard at the brazier once one of us gets close?”

Ikaros looked at him as if to say “of course I can” and flew off.

“Right. Korinna and Menippos, you go through the hidden entrance,” he turned to Kyra, “Can you climb that wall?”

“Well enough.”

“Then you’re with me. Archers stay hidden, and cover us. Let them think we’re alone until there’s an arrow in their throat. Kyra and I will go first. Wait a couple minutes, and then go. Ikaros will signal once we’ve dealt with the brazier. Everyone understand?”

They all nodded, and Alexios turned to Kyra.

“Let’s go.”

The two snuck carefully through, Kyra’s time hunting serving her well - she was quieter than he was - and they made it to the base of the wall, Kyra motioning for him to go and her to follow. 

He made it to the top easily and was able to prop himself up just enough to scan the walkway and ensure it was clear, pulling himself up the rest of the way and dropping close to the floor. He could see the flicker of torchlight coming from a small room to his left and crept over, silently drawing the short sword he had taken to carrying. It reminded him of Kassandra’s spear.

He drew it across the guard’s throat before the man knew he was in danger, grabbing the torch from his hand and kicking him off the wall into the long grass below before he could even finish his last breath. Then he moved back to the room as if he were a guard and put the torch in its holder. Kyra was pressed against the wall, and she pointed to the ladder leading up. Alexios checked, and motioned for her to follow.

They crouched on the top and Kyra pointed to the brazier. Alexios studied the fort, scowling as he realized he wouldn’t be able to creep along the wall to get there.

“I’ll have to jump,” he decided, drawing out his path with his finger. There were two guards in his way, and he pointed to the first, “Shoot him once I get closer. Can you cover me until I get to that roof?”

Kyra took a moment, before nodding, “I’ll have to move afterwards though. I think that’s my best bet,” she pointed to another room on the wall, this one with a guard on top.

“Kill him before you move,” and Alexios dropped down the ladder.

His way forward was clear, just as he predicted, and Kyra dropped the first guard once he had gotten within ten or so feet. He took a moment to throw the body off the battlements and crept towards the second guard in his way. This one died as easily as the first, Alexios catching the body before it could fall and tucking it out of sight behind a weapons rack, which he took the opportunity to relieve of a nice dagger to slip in his belt.

Then he said a prayer, took a few steps back, got a running start, and jumped.

He missed the roof, but managed to catch onto a protruding stone before sliding down too far, but still hit the wall with a loud thud that knocked the wind out of him. He barely managed to keep his grip, but thankfully he was only a few feet from the top.

But the noise had attracted a guard and Alexios panicked. 

He would have to drop and kill the man before he could alert anyone, but wouldn’t have time to hide the body - he was sure someone else would have heard the noise and come to investigate, alerting the guard at the brazier. 

Powerful as Alexios was, he couldn’t fight off a whole army and he would die before he let himself be captured by Kosmos again. So he began to climb, preparing to throw his new dagger. It was better to risk waking the fort than to allow reinforcements, and Podarkes, to arrive. 

Yet he forgot something important - he wasn’t alone. 

He had just managed to make it to the top when he heard a body fall, one of Kyra’s arrows in his eye, and Alexios took a moment to sigh in relief, before moving forward, crouching out of sight and watching Kyra begin to move. The guard he had told her to take care of fell quickly, and she scrambled up the roof. He waited a moment for her to settle before moving forward. The brazier was not far now, and a slash of his sword and a swipe of his dagger dealt with the two final guards in his way, until he reached the final platform. One more leap, and he’d have made it, but he took a moment to check the area before jumping. He said a quick goodbye to his new dagger and with expert aim, it landed in the throat of the nearest guard, who fell with hardly a gurgle. And so he jumped, dousing the wood of the brazier and Ikaros let out a low trill. 

Alexios slid down the ladder, heading towards the barracks. His hands were wet with blood when he left, leaving more than a few bodies behind and feeling a little sick. He didn’t like killing people while they slept, but as he stepped over a body with Korinna’s fletching marking it as her arrow in the man’s eye, he had to agree that it was far safer to silence them in their beds rather than the battlefield. 

A thought that rang through his head once more when an unfamiliar shout sounded out.

“Over there!”

No swords pointed his way nor arrows going for his heart, so he ran towards the shouts as arrows flew through the sky, towards a figure darting across the roofs.

Korinna. 

He took a moment to thank the gods that it was Korinna they were shooting at and not Kyra. The Daughter of Artemis was far more nimble, but Artemisia would kill him if he returned without her sister. 

But she was slower, clumsier, and it took until Alexios arrived at the armed Athenians to know why.

Menippos had betrayed them, standing at ease with Podarkes’ men, and Alexios saw red as one of the marksmen landed a hit on Korinna and she disappeared from the battlements.

“Kyra, run!” He yelled, swords already in hand and heading for the offending marksman’s head. It split in two and he spun, moving for the others, wishing more than anything that Kassandra was there.

He spun and slashed, and more and more came. He caught a blade across his arm, another doing its best to pierce through the armor of his side. He abandoned his short sword and ripped a mace from a limp hand, swinging it widely and grinning as it crushed a man’s skull and another’s arm, before throwing it and retrieving his blade. Another man screamed, and he heard the familiar thunk of an arrow hitting its mark. It took him a moment to realize its mark was his shoulder, and the world went black for a moment.

Another thunk, but this one was in an Athenian about to thrust his spear through his throat. Another thunk, and an Athenian marksman went down, the arrow having split his skull. Then a pained and raspy war cry came from behind him, and Korinna flung herself forward, daggers in hand, an arrow in her shoulder, and a hastily bandaged gut wound dripping blood down her legs.

Rage filled Alexios, and the two stood back to back, preparing to take down the rest, another arrow landing in a man’s throat and Alexios realized that Kyra had completely ignored his orders, and had to grin. Between the three of them, they managed to hold them off.

“Hold them off” was too strong a string of words. “Not die” was far more accurate. But Alexios could feel Korinna start to sag against his back. He pushed her away.

“Bow!” He managed to grunt out, keeping three swords back with his and opening a man’s stomach with the other. She managed to understand, and ran. Kyra shot the two who moved to follow her and as an arrow whizzed past Alexios’ ear, he let himself take the briefest of moments to celebrate, before losing himself in the battle again. 

The arrow in his shoulder burned, and he dropped his short sword, focusing on blocking blows and not passing out. Kyra and Korinna took out those they could, but they could only do so much as more and more Athenians came after them. 

The ground was slick with blood, and as his back hit a wall, he slipped. He ducked, cut off his foe’s leg at the knee, and realized he couldn’t win this battle alone. He whistled for Ikaros, only for the traitor to laugh. 

"We shot the bird out of the sky," and Alexios froze, giving Menippos the chance to disarm him.

The man punched him before he could retrieve his sword and he felt his mouth fill with blood. He spat at his feet, and the traitor sneered.

“I thought the great Deimos would be more of a challenge.”

Alexios felt his blood run cold, but kept the fear out of his voice and growled out a warning, “If you kill me, there’s nowhere you can go where Kassandra won’t find you.”

The cultist, for that is who he must be, grinned, “We’re planning on it,” And raised his spear.

Alexios had barely a moment to realize that Menippos had the butt of the spear pointed at him and not the sharp end before it met the side of his head and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Except he can't escape the cult! I promise y'all that Alexios isn't dead, but that's all you get for now.
> 
> Also I know next to nothing about Spartan military culture and norms so forgive me if the brief meeting between Thaletas and Myrinne is inaccurate.
> 
> Next up - Kassandra celebrates the death of the Monger and writes some letters.


	21. Korinthia III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra celebrates the death of the Monger and gets closer to her favorite Spartan

If Kassandra had taken too much glee in tying up what remained of the Monger behind Phobos, it was more than justified in her mind.

She would never forget Myrinne’s drunken words when Kassandra revealed the Monger was dead, the horrors the Anthousa and the hetaerae had endured at his hand, and made a point to stomp at that delicate area between a man’s legs.

Once, twice, three times. She only stopped to figure out the cause of Phoibe’s snicker.

Nikolaus, Brasidas, Aketes, and the rest of the Korinthian men who had helped them take down the Monger were staring at her in horror. She cocked an eyebrow.

“I tore out the man’s eye and this is what sickens you? A little kick to his cock? Men are babies,” she scoffed, swinging herself up on Phobos and Phoibe after her.

“Once you pull your heads out of your asses, meet us in the amphitheatre. Anthousa wants us there for the execution.”

Then she turned to the Monger, arms bound behind his back and ropes around his waist and neck and eyes glaring at her in hate.

“I’d start walking if I were you.”

And with a click, she turned around and Phobos began to walk. She didn’t bother to check if the Monger had listened.

\----

The monster had, prompted further by spear point, and the party made it to the center of Korinth to raucous cheers and applause. They threw stones and rotten fruits and their own shit in a few memorable cases, and Kassandra and Brasidas presented the bound and maimed Monger to Anthousa, who grinned wickedly.

“Let everyone have their chance.”

And so the Monger was left to hang in the sun for the Korinthians to pelt with stones as they celebrated his demise. Brasidas and Kassandra held places of honor but ensured the townspeople who helped were not forgotten in the drunken revelry. In the months Phoibe had lived in the city she had amassed a following of children, and with Dorios at her side, the pack ran amok in the freed city, Achilles and Nikolaus close behind to ensure they were safe.

Kassandra slipped away from the revelry to rid herself of the uncomfortable armor and write quick updates to Alexios and Barnabas, grateful that the letters she and Nikolaus had written to Myrinne had been finished the day before, Brasidas followed, saying he wanted to make sure the code wasn’t too easy to crack but mostly to make annoying comments.

That she referred to him and Nikolaus as her “favorite Spartans” was his favorite part, and as the two searched the buildings on the outskirts of the city for minions of the Monger, made it clear it was not something he was going to let up on, while Ikaros scanned the surrounding farms and forests.

Kassandra entered each building first each time, spear drawn and ready, and Brasidas only just behind.

“You plan on ever letting me enter first?” He finally asked, after the sixth empty house Kassandra had pushed in front of him in the entryway, using her own body as a shield in a way that was not overly subtle and quickly picked up on by Brasidas, with more than a little annoyance.

Kassandra ignored the chance to make a lewd joke and instead continued to scan the room, looking for any sign of the Monger, as she shrugged and responded, “I move faster than you.”

Brasidas made a noise of agreement, moving past her as she shifted to the side to allow him to pass, moving into the empty dining room with a snort, “And wear no armor or carry a shield.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d allow anyone the chance to hit me,” she said, darting up the stairs with a laugh and a grin to Brasidas, “Besides, I’ve heard people prefer me in a dress.”

To his credit, the spy’s eyes only dropped to her chest for the briefest of moments before returning to her eyes.

“You are only carrying a broken spear,” he said, and Kassandra’s grin felt like it was going to split her face in two.

“Who said I needed anything else?” she responded, before ducking her head through a doorway. Brasidas was interested in her as more than a friend and ally - now she just had to see if he was going to do anything about it.

“This room’s empty, too,” she said, and felt the warmth of his body behind her as he walked by the check the second room.

“Empty as well,” he said, “And no roof access. Next house?”

She nodded, and dramatically gestured at the stairs, “After you, Spartan.”

“Not going to be a human shield this time?”

“No cultists here to protect you from. Besides,” she leered, focusing on his face for a hint of reaction, “I prefer the view behind you.”

Annoyingly, Brasidas only raised one eyebrow without even the faintest of blushes on his cheeks and made no move to respond, just looking blankly at her. But just as she was about to say “Your ass, Brasidas,” and see if that would make him at least grin, she felt herself pulled to Ikaros in a way she had never felt before.

Her eyes widened, and even as she felt her soul slip from her body, she managed to gasp out a few strangled words to the suddenly concerned man in front of her.

“Stay here. Ikaros.”

And she felt her body collapse into Brasidas’ arms as her soul flew.

A moment later she was looking through his eyes, staring at a small group of bandits in mismatched armor and two well armed mercenaries. It took a moment for her to recognize the women. 

Deianeira and Astra. 

When Alexios had gone over the most influential cultists in that cave in Delphia, he had been quick to warn Kassandra how dangerous Deianeira was, and even though her cousin Astra wasn’t officially part of the cult, she was no less deadly. Her first battles with the women in Boeotia had been fierce, and encountering the two in the Underworld had forced her to wonder what would happen to her if she died in the land of the dead.

She didn’t know if they were coming to the Monger’s aid, she didn’t know if they were hunting her, she didn’t know what they were doing in Korinthia.

All Kassandra knew was that they were dangerous and somewhere between Korinth and Argos - and she didn’t know where Phoibe was. 

Ikaros flew over the group, their keen eyes already beginning to search the forest for Phoibe and her pack, when an arrow whizzed by his wing, shot by one of the bandits below and avoided with reflexes only Kassandra and Ikaros shared.

A shout from below of “Eagle Bearer!” amidst a jumble of words made their blood run cold, and they scanned the forest one last time, finding it empty but for a few wild boars, and Ikaros forced Kassandra back to herself, letting her know he would keep them busy until she arrived.

She awoke with a rush of pain and Brasidas’ terrified eyes boring holes into her own. He had laid her on the floor and was knelt before her and as her eyes opened, took her face into his warm hands, scanning for injury. 

“Are you okay?”

She moved to respond but the only sound that escaped her throat was a gasp as her chest burned painfully. She felt her eyes flutter: every time they closed she was back with Ikaros, wings flapping furiously and lungs burning as he spun and dove to avoid the arrows headed in his direction.

“Kassandra!” 

Brasidas’ worried voice pulled her back to herself and she swallowed her terror.

“Phoibe,” she managed to force out, fingers closing around her spear and moving to stand even as her limbs felt like lead, and rather than helping her up, Brasidas merely scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing and moved to go down the stairs. 

“There’s a doctor near the docks,” he said, and Kassandra forced herself to stay in his arms until he made it down the stairs, “We aren’t far to the stables, my horse can carry us both.”

The second Brasidas’ feet hit the ground Kassandra began to struggle, managing to free herself despite his tightening grip just beyond the doorway. 

She stumbled away, and even in her disorientated state, she was still faster than Brasidas.

“Find Phoibe!”

And then she was off, running to the stables even as her vision blurred and legs cried out in pain. Brasidas had been right, the stables hadn’t been far, and she found herself swinging up onto Phobos back before she had even realized she had made it, and the two practically flew out of the stables. She vaguely thought she saw Brasidas running after her but her vision was still too blurry. It wasn’t any better by the time she passed Achilles in the street, but the wolf was hard to miss. 

She couldn’t see her girl, so instead she just yelled at the children sized blobs of color for Phoibe to stay within the city, not bothering to slow down and give Nikolaus the chance to stop her as he yelled out in confusion.

With a nudge of her heels, she directed Phobos to Ikaros before closing her eyes and allowing herself to go to Ikaros once more. 

Deianeira and Astra and the rest were chasing him and she could feel his exhaustion and the profound relief when the first boar attacked. The rest followed, and with the mercenaries distracted, Ikaros was able to escape. They landed on a tree, hidden from view and giving him a chance to glance down at his body. An arrow had managed to graze his breast, and as he leaned down to fuss with his feathers, Kassandra opened her eyes and returned to herself.

Just in time too, as the mercenary group was just ahead, the last boar dying with a squeal as Astra removed her spear from its throat. Kassandra reached for the bow on her back and found nothing but air.

She had no bow, no sword, no armor - nothing but her spear. 

She swore under her breath in every language she knew as Deianeira looked up to see her, and the archer at her side fired.

She threw herself off Phobos with a kick sending him away from her, dodging the arrow and rolling to the party’s feet. A slash of her spear at Astra’s ankles sent the woman kneeling, and Kassandra headbutted her as she rose. 

A foolish choice, really. Kassandra’s head had already felt ready to split in two, and her vision, which had only just begun to clear, filled with black spots once more. She didn’t quite know how, but she managed to dodge Deianeira’s blades swinging towards her face and her spear moved on its own to block someone’s axe from cleaving her in two. She rolled again, missing all but one of the blades stabbing down at her, the spearpoint breaking off in between her ribs as she moved away.

She heard Ikaros’ war cry, and howl of pain from above, and took the moment to rise to her feet and drive her spear into Astra’s skull, ripping out her eye, and slashing her spear across her throat for good measure. Deianeira screamed in rage, and Kassandra killed the bandit Ikaros had blinded and charged another before Deianeira moved towards her. 

A spear ripped through the man’s chest before she had even managed to fully turn, Brasidas smashing his shield into Deianeira’s face as she charged towards them. 

Her vision continued to blur, but she did her best to glare in his general direction, before spinning back to Deianeira.

Blades clashed in a flurry of sparks, the spear of Leonidas deflecting the mercenary’s twin daggers somehow, and she just barely managed to slip her blade through armor into Deianeira’s neck. Kassandra felt Brasidas at her back, and twisted, rolling against his shield to bring the final enemy down with a strong kick, before Brasidas finished him off. 

She turned to face him, choosing to focus on the Brasidas on the left when she saw two, “Phoibe?”

“Safe with Nikolaus. They tried following me but I told them to protect the town.”

“No. I told you to stay with Phoibe.”

Brasidas’ hands grabbed her shoulders, and she had to turn and follow his arms to actually find him - the double she had seen being completely off - before they moved to grip the sides of her face. That managed to get her to focus on him, and the look of utter incredulity on his face.

“Kassandra,” he said, low and dangerous, “You collapsed without warning and a few mangled words, started bleeding from an invisible wound, and ran off to fight some unknown enemy when you could hardly walk. What the fuck did you expect me to do?”

“I had it handled!”

His face broke into the briefest hint of a smile before he remembered he was supposed to be mad at her, “You have a spear in your ribs.”

That reminded her of something he had said, “I started bleeding?”

Brasidas’ eyes dropped down to her chest and hers followed, and lo and behold, the dark grey of her chiton remained unripped but soaked through with blood. She blinked more than a few times and shook her head to clear her vision but it remained even as the world finally came back into focus.

Modesty had never been a real concern of hers and so without preamble she undid the belt at her waist and stripped her chiton off to better examine it even as her companion made a strangled noise of protest and the two looked down. 

Right where Ikaros had been hit, a horrible slash cut across her skin.

“That’s new,” she whispered before a horrible thought came to her and she whistled for Ikaros and held her hand between them for him to land on. 

But the gods were kind and she breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever strange magic had wounded her as he had been did not seem to go the same way - the short feathers of his stomach remained unstained by blood and unmarred by the stab wound between her ribs. 

“Do you have any papyrus?” she asked Brasidas, stroking the feathers of Ikaros’ wing and pressing her lips to his head.

Her friend was silent, staring at the two as if he had never seen them before, and she raised her eyebrows at him to repeat the question.

“With my horse. I’ll write.” he whistled for the horses, Phobos trotting just in front of his own dappled war horse, and without bothering to rummage through, he grabbed a bag that looked as if he had hastily thrown across her neck and returned back to Kassandra.

“Sit,” he ordered, and Kassandra ignored him to instead bring Ikaros over to Phobos, “What do you want me to write?”

“Take Ikaros to a doctor and give Phobos some water. We’ll be behind soon.”

“Pardon?”

“Phobos can move faster without me. I’ll walk.”

Brasidas looked like he wanted to argue, but instead finished his letter, and silently gave it to Ikaros.

Kassandra leaned in to give Ikaros another kiss and leaned her forehead to touch Phobos’.

“Go to Phoibe,” she said, and Phobos whinnied in response and took off, Ikaros’s claws wrapped around his mane and beak holding the scroll.

Kassandra moved to follow, but Brasidas grabbed her wrist and held her back. 

“I’m not letting you walk back with a spear in your gut.”

“Fine. Didn’t you say your horse could carry us both?”

“You aren’t going back until you let me deal with your wounds.”

“They’ll be expecting us.”

“Not for a while. I told them we were tracking them and wouldn’t be back for a while, but you were concerned for Ikaros. Now sit down before I make you.”

Kassandra finally listened, dropping down to lean back against a tree and glare at him, and he smiled even as he met her glare with one of his own. His eyes didn’t leave hers even as he knelt next to her and reached into his bag, pulling out a few rags and a wineskin.

“You got lucky, the spear didn’t splinter inside of you. It shouldn’t be hard to remove.”

Kassandra glanced down, clenched her teeth, and said, “Do it now.”

Brasidas obliged, carefully sliding it out, and watching her face for pain. Thankfully, the spear came out easily, and he poured wine over the newly bleeding wound and pressed a rag to it. He then offered the wineskin to her.

“Drink. It will help.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Brasidas smiled, much more genuinely this time, “I don’t doubt it, but forgive me for trying to help.”

She took a small sip, and grinned back, “Brasidas, I do believe I could forgive you for anything.”

His smile fell for half a second, but he nodded towards the cut on her chest, “I’d like to bandage your side before dealing with that.”

“No need. I’m used to patching myself up.”

That was a lie - mostly. The last time Kassandra could even remember being injured had been during World War II, in London during the Blitz, when broken glass and stone had exploded and rained down on the children she was escorting. Or it would have, if she hadn’t shielded them herself. She had been the one to fix herself up though, as she hadn’t found a doctor she truly trusted after Hippokrates. 

So she pulled off her bra, or at least what passed for a bra in these times, and examined the cut closer. The skin surrounding it was ragged and swollen, but the wound itself was relatively straight, curving unnatural around her breast in a way that betrayed its less than normal origins. She soaked a corner of a rag in wine and began to clean it, doing her best to stay still so as to not disturb Brasidas’ work.

But Brasidas had frozen, eyes averted away from her and fixed on the ground as his hands clenched at her side. His face was flushed, and his ears Spartan red. Kassandra grinned.

“You are allowed to look, Brasidas.”

If possible, his face turned redder, and he reached over and threw her dress her way.

“Just tell me when you have your chiton back where it belongs.” 

She laughed at that, and finished cleaning her wound, using the linen of her bra as a bandage, and pulled her dress back on, keeping the fabric away from the spear wound with her hand.

“Safe for your delicate sensibilities, though forgive me for assuming you would enjoy the view.”

Brasidas spun back around, face red, eyes hungry, and a scowl on his face.

“Don’t be cruel, Kassandra.”

That made her pause. She had been called a lot of things over the course of her very long life, but cruel was rarely one of them, and she did not hesitate to tell him so.

Brasidas laughed at that, a hollow sound, and moved his hands from her side to grip the sides of her face, and stared at her as if he was looking for a sign of jest in her face.

“You, Kassandra, are unlike anyone else in this world. Poets will write countless songs and legends about the Eagle Bearer, a lost princess and the greatest warrior in Sparta’s bloody history. Beautiful and kind and deadly, a goddess among us mere mortals. How could I not love you?”

Kassandra grinned, and moved to kiss him, but he held her back. 

“You love your huntress. Daphnae. So don’t let me love you only once.”

He pulled away and moved back to bandaging her wound as if he hadn’t just confessed his feelings, peered into her soul, and ripped out her heart in only a few words, and Kassandra could only stare at him as her brain restarted.

He finished tying the bandage, moving to wash his hands, and Kassandra, tired of keeping secrets and selfish most of all, pulled him to her and finally, after over two thousand years, kissed him.

And in between breaths, Kassandra felt the need to lecture him and explain as best she could while spending as little time as possible not kissing him.

“You selfish man.”

Another kiss, bruising and harsh.

“I have loved you for two thousand years.”

She moved to his neck.

“Then you had the audacity to die before I could tell you I loved you.”

Brasidas finally seemed to unfreeze, his own hands moving to her waist.

“And when the gods finally decided to stop being the biggest malakas in the history of malakas, I woke up a child again.”

Brasidas moved to her own neck, twisting the fingers of one hand in her hair, and she gasped as he scraped his teeth across her jugular.

“So you don’t get to deny me the chance to love you when I was lucky enough to get a second chance.”

Kassandra reached for the ties of his armor, desperate to get it off him.

“I can love you and I can love Daphnae and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone stop me.”

And she started to push it off of him, when he suddenly paused, one hand gripping the chiton at the small of her back and the other tangled in her hair, his face still burrowed in the curve of her shoulder. She froze as well, as he very quietly asked:

“Two thousand years?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially planned for this chapter to cover Kassandra and Phoibe's journey to Boeotia but it kind of ran away from me. 
> 
> Adding a little bit more lore to the connection between Ikaros and Kassandra and setting up for some revelations in later chapters about just why Kassandra was given this second chance. 
> 
> As for Brasidas finding out about this second chance (and learning that this incredible woman has been in love with him for 2000+ years), I ended up moving that scene up in the timeline as I felt it worked a lot better here. Besides, with Barnabas, Herodotos, and Alexios in Naxos/Mykonos, I see Kassandra feeling very alone, and while she loves and trusts Phoibe and to a lesser extent Nikolaus, I don't see her burdening them with such a big revelation, especially Phoibe. But Brasidas is a spy, and used to keeping secrets and being discreet, and Kassandra trusts him implicitly, and she gets another confidant, even if she leaves in another couple days.
> 
> As for sex and romance - I hope it's not terrible, but writing it is not my forte, so I apologize.
> 
> Next up, we take a look into the minds of Brasidas, Phoibe, Stentor, and Daphnae, as Kassandra and Phoibe go north.


	22. Heading North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short look into Brasidas' head before Kassandra and Phoibe leave for Boeotia, and the sisters get the opportunity for some very important sibling bonding.

Brasidas:

The Monger was dead, or close enough that it hardly mattered anymore, and so he was unable to deny himself with duty anymore. So when he saw Kassandra slip away from the celebration, he couldn’t keep himself from following her.

“Leaving the party so soon?” Kassandra asked him, a grin so bright and beautiful that it rivaled the sun.

“It was you who took down the Monger, Kassandra, it would be rude to celebrate without you. So what keeps you from joining the city?”

“Ikaros is going to Mykonos, but I need to write to Barnabas and Alexios first.”

Kassandra gestured for him to enter the inn Anthousa had provided for their party a few days before, and Brasidas inclined his head at her before entering, before opening the door to the room the four shared and ushering her in with a polite smile.

The second she passed by she immediately went for the ties of her armor, pulling her breastplate off and tossing it onto the floor near her bed, and Brasidas immediately forced his mind away from thoughts of her chiton falling away with her armor as she led him to the bed… 

He swallowed, and moved over to the desk Kassandra had already started writing at, if one could call her quick messy scrawl writing, and looked over her shoulder. She smelled like oranges.

The letter was for Alexios, and he winced at the reminder that Lagos was a cultist.

A cultist only to protect his family from Pausinias’ wrath, but a cultist nonetheless.

“You’re sending Ikaros to help Alexios?”

“A difficult decision,” she said, and pulled out another sheet, this one quickly addressed to her ‘most optimistic friend’ and he assumed it was for Barnabas. “But Ikaros will be able to do more in Mykonos than traveling with me.”

He tried very hard to not smell her hair again, and failed miserably. 

“I’m one of your favorite Spartans?” 

“I’ve only met a few that didn’t annoy the ever living shit out of me,” she teased him back, and he grinned.

“And I wasn’t one of them!”

She finished her letter with a flourish, and turned to him with a wicked smile that made his insides melt.

“There’s still time, Brasidas. Want to check the city for any of the Monger’s men that escaped earlier?”

Then she got up, and brushed past him, and with a two second glance at her beautiful ass, he followed. 

They kept a running banter as they walked, Ikaros interrupting only once for Kassandra to give him a kiss on the top of his head before he took off, and Brasidas never thought he would feel jealous of an eagle.

For all Kassandra’s flirting, he saw in her eyes and the soft smiles as she talked about her huntress that he would never have her heart the way she had already ensnared his.

So he let himself enjoy the feel of her body against his as she pushed in front of him and did his best to keep his eyes from wandering even as her short chiton left so much beautiful golden skin on display, all while shoving down feelings that were quickly becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Then, in a matter of moments, Kassandra had gone from teasing him with a grin to gasping for breath, wide eyed and terrified in a way he never expected to see, barely managing to force out a few strangled sounds.

“Eek os.”

Then she collapsed, and he was just barely able to catch her.

Her eyes were wide open and unseeing, and were it not for the short breaths that came in raspy gasps and the rapid pulse beneath his fingers on her neck, Brasidas would have thought her dead. He laid her on the floor, calling her name again and again, pleading for his love to wake up. 

Those few moments felt like hours before her eyes fluttered and her breath quickened, and she began to search for something, and he moved his hands to her face to force her to look at him. 

“Are you okay? Kassandra!”

Kassandra screamed in pain as the skin of her chest burst, staining the grey of her chiton red with blood, and she forced out another word.

“Eebie.”

Brasidas scooped her up, cradling her close to his chest even as she struggled to free herself, and said some shit about a doctor and a horse. It didn’t matter, as she broke herself free the second he had left the house and was off with a final order.

“Fie Eebie!”

She was fast, even as she stumbled and tripped, and laden down by armor, Brasidas had to struggle to keep up. He didn’t quite know where Kassandra was headed but he would be damned if he didn’t follow her after checking to make sure Phoibe was okay.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that Phoibe was the most important person in Kassandra’s life and less time to learn that if she gave you a direct order related to Phoibe, you were a dead man if you didn’t follow it to the letter.

But thankfully, Phoibe was safe, surrounded by friends and two wolves in the heart of the city, and Brasidas slowed down his horse to a trot as he passed Nikolaus.

“Ikaros saw something dangerous, and I couldn’t let her go alone. Stay here.”

Nikolaus looked half ready to sprint after Kassandra, but Brasidas pushed him back with the butt of his spear.

“Protect Phoibe and the children.”

The Wolf of Sparta nodded, and Brasidas let his horse back to a gallop, chasing after the trail of Phobos and Kassandra.

When he finally caught her in his sights once more, she was fighting seven or eight on one, her opponents heavily armored and well prepared and Kassandra barely dressed and wielding a broken spear.

Yet she clearly had the upper hand.

She stumbled, her strikes lacking the fluidity of norm, using brute force than the precise slashes she favored, but Kassandra was a born warrior.

Divine.

Kassandra seemed to glow, lit from a fire within, her spear moving faster than he would have imagined possible to rip out a man’s throat, before dropping to swipe the legs out from another. She headbutted a woman with enough power to send her flying even as his love stumbled back, stepping once more out of range of a pair of daggers before blocking an axe with her spear, taking off her attacker’s hand with ease for good measure.

Kassandra rolled to avoid blows that would have killed anyone else, catching only a spear in her ribs, shallow enough that Brasidas knew she would live, yet the sight of her blood staining the dirt made his heart clench, and he threw himself off his horse in hopes that his own feet would be faster.

She killed the woman who stabbed her, and finished off the man Ikaros had blinded, and Brasidas drove his spear into another bandit, swinging his shield to crush in the face of the dagger wielding woman who lunged towards them with a feral scream. Brasidas grinned at Kassandra, and she glared back at him.

Or tried to at least - she glared past him more than anything - before spinning back into action, ducking beneath slashing blades and slipping hers into the woman’s neck, moving so fast that she had already turned to the final bandit before Brasidas even had the chance to. Instead she used his shield to propel herself in the air and bring one leg down hard enough on the man’s neck that Brasidas heard it snap. He drove his spear through the man’s chest just in case.

Then she spun towards him, and asked “Phoibe?”

Kassandra could barely stand up straight, was clearly seeing double, and had a spear in her gut, yet of course her only concern was her sister - and Brasidas loved her all the more for it even as he wanted to strangle her for her stubbornness and stupidity. 

So he tried to convince her that he had several perfectly good reasons to follow her when she finally seemed to realize that her chest slicing open with no explanation was something she should probably be concerned about and stripped off her chiton.

His curiosity was the only thing that kept him focused on the strange slice on her breast and his eyes from wandering - it cut unnaturally through her skin in a way that hinted to strange origins even if Brasidas hadn’t seen it appear on her chest out of nowhere. It made absolutely no sense to him.

But for Kassandra, it only seemed to take a moment for her to understand, her eyes widening in confusion, realization, and fear. It was when she called Ikaros to her that he understood why.

Ikaros had the same wound.

Yet the eagle was free of a gaping wound in his gut, and he watched Kassandra sag in relief, before asking for papyrus. With her handwriting being atrocious in the best of times, Brasidas volunteered to write her ridiculous letter.

He understood sending Ikaros back with Phobos, but he edited the final part of her words. He had no intention of letting her walk back - especially since he got the impression that she had already forgotten about the spear in her gut.

And he had a thousand questions, most of them about Ikaros.

When Kassandra had introduced the eagle to him as her eyes in the sky, he had assumed she meant they communicated through years of practice.

It was clearly more than that. A lot more than that.

But it was all forgotten with Kassandra’s lips on his, her hands moving across his body as he explored hers, and revelations he had not expected.

Strange bonds between women and eagles would have to wait after learning that Kassandra had lived this life before, known and loved him before, lost so much before.

Two thousand years alone.

He couldn’t imagine Kassandra watching everyone she had ever loved die, the world she knew changing beyond recognition, waiting for hundreds of years for a person she knew nothing about, let alone whether they would even come to finally relieve her of her burden. All that pain and apathy, and when she finally was given the chance to die, to reunite with her family and friends in death, that was stolen away from her too.

A second chance, she had called it, the opportunity to save so many she loved.

“But,” she had said, her whisper so low he could hardly hear it even as he held her face in his hands and she pressed her forehead to his, “I am so very tired.”

\----

Phoibe:

Before Kassandra had left Kephallonia, she had promised Phoibe that once reunited, she would never leave her alone again. So, understandably, as Kassandra tore through Korinth like a wild woman, barely slowing Phobos to order her to stay within the city, and Brasidas close behind giving only a quick word to Nikolaus before continuing on, that Phoibe was rather annoyed. 

She had just gotten her sister back, and yet Kassandra was running off again without her. After she had let her assist with the Monger, Phoibe had hoped that she would be able to join Kassandra in her battles. Even though Kassandra was worried she would get hurt, Phoibe knew her sister would protect her.

Kassandra fought like it was the one thing she was born to do. It was fluid and brutal, graceful and fierce. She looked like she was dancing when she fought and Phoibe knew that there was no one else in this world that compared to her and only a few that even stood a chance against her.

So when Phobos returned to the city without her, Ikaros perched on his back with a letter in his talons and droplets of his blood staining the scroll, Phoibe’s blood ran cold, and it was only concern for Ikaros that kept her from running after Kassandra. 

Nikolaus read the letter quickly before Phoibe ripped it out of his hands. It was written in an ornate script she assumed to be Brasidas’ handwriting, Kassandra’s being blunt and no nonsense. The two were tracking some of the Monger’s men and Ikaros had been shot and needed care. They would return sometime later that night or the next day depending on how far they rode.

The two returned the next day, late in the afternoon, Kassandra wrapping her arms around Phoibe and hoisting her on her shoulders and demanding to see Ikaros the second she had slid off Brasidas’ horse.

Phoibe didn’t miss Kassandra’s wince as she swung her up and the way Brasidas’ eyes dropped to her midsection, and neither did Nikolaus.

“You are hurt.”

“A scratch, Nikolaus. I’m fine, I promise. Brasidas is an excellent doctor.”

Nikolaus was unconvinced, and turned to the second Spartan as Kassandra rolled her eyes. Brasidas smiled at her sister, before answering the unasked question, “A shallow graze, nothing more.”

“A foolish mistake on my part, but I confess I was expecting my shield to be right behind me,” Kassandra said, her voice teasing, and Brasidas’ smile grew brighter, stretching across his face.

“Forgive me, misthios, but I doubt even Pegasus could match Phobos in speed. Now I do believe we have a feathered friend to check on.”

Kassandra nodded, twisting her head to look up at Phoibe, “Ikaros?”

“The doctor of Korinth took him in. Anything for the Eagle Bearer, he said. Ikaros should be okay. He got a stitch and a salve, and should be ready for flight in a few days.”

“Good. We will have to delay our departure to Boeotia until he can leave for Mykonos,” she turned to Brasidas and Nikolaus, “When will you leave for Arkadia?”

“We’ll wait with you,” Brasidas said before Nikolaus could say anything, although the older man seemed unlikely to disagree. He kept looking between Brasidas and Kassandra, his brow furrowing more and more. 

Phoibe understood his confusion - something was different between the two. An easy camaraderie had replaced Brasidas’s longing gazes and Kassandra’s overt flirting. Comfort and understanding. Friendship. Brasidas still looked at Kassandra like she hung every star in the sky, but it lacked the intensity of before, the conviction that she was an unattainable goddess he could never touch. And Kassandra’s teasing comments lacked the pressing urgency of before, feeling more the banter between old friends, or lovers. 

Most of all, Phoibe noted, as Kassandra shifted Phoibe to free the arm she offered Brasidas, Kassandra seemed more at peace than she had for a long, long time.

\----

Nikolaus pushed for Kassandra to have her “scratch” checked out by the doctor, and Kassandra rolled her eyes once more before lifting her chiton up. The two had been honest about one thing - Brasidas was an excellent doctor - but the wound was far more serious than they had implied. 

The spear had not merely grazed her skin, but had instead landed sharply between two ribs before tearing across her side. Kassandra had rolled and snapped the spear in two, Brasidas said in explanation, as Nikolaus paled and Phoibe resisted the urge to cry.

“I’ve seen worse,” she said, answering the doctor’s questions as to why she had minimized the extent of such a wound, “I’ve had worse. So stitch me up and I’ll be out of your hair.”

The doctor could only obey at her glare, and Kassandra turned to speak to the trio gathered at her side, seemingly oblivious to the needle and thread closing her skin. 

Brasidas seemed to be the only one just as oblivious, Nikolaus and Phoibe staring at the doctor’s careful hands as Kassandra did her best to carry out a conversation, even if Brasidas was the only one who bothered to respond. He said something that made Kassandra snort with laughter, her stomach contracting with her giggles and a little blood spurted from the unsewn area, a few droplets landing on her chin.

Brasidas swiped them away with a quick motion of his thumb, his hand cradling her face as she leaned into his touch, before he wiped the blood on his cloak and the two continued their conversation. That small gesture spoke more than anything else, and it ended up being too much for Nikolaus, who gripped Brasidas’ arm and pulled him out of the room. 

“Please make sure he doesn’t do something stupid, will you Phoibe?” Kassandra asked with a grin, and Phoibe raised an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Both of them, in all honesty. Spartan men can be rather foolish. I’ll be out in a moment, right?” 

The doctor nodded at Kassandra’s glare, and Phoibe left.

She caught the tail of Brasidas’ whispered words to Nikolaus, the younger man standing with his hands behind his back as Nikolaus’ gripped his sword “... able to talk.”

Phoibe hid behind the doorway, just out of sight but still able to watch the two.

“You cannot deny that something has changed between the two of you, something more than can be explained by a mere conversation.”

“It is not my story to tell, General Nikolaus.”

Nikolaus’ scowl lessened, although his hand remained firm on the pommel of his sword.  
“She seems rather taken with her huntress,” he said.

“I know.”

“And I will not force her to marry, no matter Sparta’s laws.”

“I doubt you could, but I have no expectations of Kassandra.”

“And what of Sparta’s expectations of you, Brasidas? Thirty-one and still unmarried.”

“It’s a small tax, General.”

“You could lose your position.”

“We are at war, the ephors won’t risk losing my spy network before we take Athens. And we have a long way to go before that. Afterwards,” he shrugged, “I have seen enough blood to last a lifetime.”

Kassandra’s hand rested on Phoibe’s shoulder and the girl jumped. Kassandra smirked and whispered as she crouched next to her, “They don’t seem to be at each other’s throats, do they? I think it’s safe to make our presence known.”

“What happened between you and Brasidas?”

Kassandra’s grin faltered, and for a brief moment, she looked far older than her twenty-three years, before the corners of her mouth twitched and it was as if nothing had changed, “We talked.”

Then she pulled Phoibe up and walked into the room, pulling her along. “I’m feeling boar tonight, what about you two?”

The two men blinked at her, and Phoibe stifled a giggle. 

“No objections? Good. Phoibe, you want to grab anything before we go hunting?”

“I can come?”

Kassandra looked at her silently for a second, and Phoibe could see something shift in her eyes, “Of course. I want to start teaching you how to shoot at a gallop.”

Phoibe grinned, glad she had her bow and quiver on her back, “Let’s go.”

Kassandra turned to Brasidas, “We’re taking Arion.”

He nodded in agreement, knowing Kassandra would take care of his horse, and Kassandra motioned for Phoibe to follow her. 

\----

Kassandra slashes chis within rings into a few trees and atop Arion, showed Phoibe how to adjust her stance to shoot as Arion sped through the forest. Phoibe was tall for her age, but too short to dig her heels on the underside of Phobos’ ribs the way Kassandra could even on the larger Arion, but a couple quick knots on a length of rope Kassandra had brought created a harness of sorts that Phoibe could use to anchor herself. 

“We’ll find you a proper horse in Boeotia or Athens. A pony, perhaps, or a younger colt, small enough for you to ride more easily,” Kassandra said, moving Phoibe’s legs and arms into the proper position, before leaning back and looking over Phoibe once more before giving a nod of approval, “Try a trot first.”

Phoibe clicked as Kassandra had taught her and Phobos began to move as she notched an arrow. 

Her first few shots were good, easily hitting within the rough rings and one coming very close to the center of the chi.

“Faster. And don’t hunch.”

Phoibe straightened with a sheepish grin and clicked again. Phobos picked up speed and her first shot missed the tree entirely.

“Try leaning back.”

Phoibe obeyed, and the second arrow hit the tree, albeit not even within the target. 

“Better. Lean back more, and don’t be afraid to fall.”

She shifted, and leaned back more, trusting the harness Kassandra had made and Phobos to keep her on horseback, and the third and fourth shots were far better than the first two. 

“You’re a damn natural, Phoibe. Your form is practically perfect.” 

She could hear the smile in Kassandra’s words and grinned in response.

“Just keep that form as you pick up speed, and remember to account for the distance you travel between notch and loose.”

Phoibe nodded, and with another click, Phobos sped up to a full gallop - not the fastest she had seen him move, but as fast as he went in situations not concerning life and death. Her arrows went wide, scattered among the trees or embedding themselves in unmarked trunks, but Kassandra complimented her form and shouted advice. 

Finally, an arrow hit a target, and Kassandra whooped in excitement, and Phoibe could hardly bear to tell her that she had been aiming for the target next to it.

“Still an excellent shot! You just need more practice, and more experience riding. Phobos moves faster than you’re accounting for and that is what’s throwing you off.”

Phoibe grinned as Kassandra walked over to her and gripped her shoulders, the excitement on her face practically blinding her, “You are going to be the greatest archer in the world by the time Daphnae and I are done with you, I swear.”

She should have been proud, and she was, but Phoibe looked at Kassandra’s grinning face and could only remember that Kassandra had left her, didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t push down her hurt anymore.

“Will you let me hunt bandits with you then?”

The grin dropped from her sister’s face, and her voice was quiet, “Is it so wrong for me to want to keep you safe?”

“What about you? What about yesterday? You were hurt!”

“You are still a child, Phoibe.”

“I am thirteen! Older than you were when you started taking contracts on Kephallonia.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I had no one looking out for me, Phoibe. No mater, no pater, no brothers or sisters or friends. You,” she sunk to her knees, voice cracking, “I don’t want you to go through what I went through.”

“I won’t. You’ve done everything to make sure of that.”

Kassandra moved her hands from Phoibe’s shoulders, running them through her hair and mussing up her braid. She took a deep breath, and smiled sadly, looking at Phoibe as if it was the first time she had seen her in a long time.

“It’s hard for me to see the young woman you are becoming and not the little girl I met on Kephallonia all those years ago.”

“Will you try?”

Kassandra nodded, “I will. But I will never stop trying to keep you safe.”

“I know.”

\----

Kassandra does her best, and Phoibe loves her all the more for it. They practice archery every day, and Kassandra gives her another short sword the day Ikaros leaves for Mykonos. 

It’s longer than the one she had given her in Kephallonia, and far nicer, and it fits in her hands like it has always belonged there. Phoibe takes to it far more easily than the other. 

They spar every day of the two weeks they stay in Korinth, Brasidas and Nikolaus joining them more often than not and Dorios allows himself to be dragged to practice by Phoibe. 

Phoibe gives him her old sword and Kassandra shows him some basic moves, and Erinne especially is relieved to hear that while he is no warrior, he is by no means hopeless.

And when the two teens are too tired to continue, Kassandra turns to Brasidas or Nikolaus or both and challenges them to a spar with a wide grin. And whether Kassandra goes up against one of them or both, no matter whether she fights with just her spear or wielding a sword in her other hand, the spars end with her sister victorious and her opponents bruised in the dirt.

Phoibe gets the feeling neither Brasidas nor Nikolaus are upset by the outcome.

They spend their nights throughout Korinth. Erinne hosts them one night, Aketes the next. Anthousa throws a party that lasts three days in their honor, celebrating the death of the Monger and reestablishing her power in the city. She is with Kassandra when they run into a blond man who calls her Dianthe with a leer the second day in Anthousa’s home, before Kassandra corrects him with a laugh, apologizing for her caution in Athens. She introduces Alkibiades to Phoibe, but quickly sends her off with a whispered message for Nikolaus and Brasidas to stay away from him.

Nikolaus listens, knowing just who Alkibiades is in Athens and the importance of keeping the Wolf of Sparta dead to the world, but eventually Brasidas, tired of glaring at the man from a dark corner as the Athenian’s propositions to Kassandra become more and more descriptive, finally snaps and pulls her away to dance. Alkibiades simply extends his offer to Brasidas with a grin before turning to a nearby group, but Phoibe watches his eyes narrow for a moment as he watches Brasidas pull Kassandra far closer than some would consider appropriate before he seems to dismiss them.

Phoibe decides not to trust him, no matter what Kassandra thinks, and makes herself scarce.

Their final night in Korinth they spend in the rooms Anthousa provided for them, Kassandra not so gently suggesting that Phoibe take advantage of the bed before they leave in the morning. She feigns sleep as the three talk in low voices, discussing politics and cultists and strategy, before Nikolaus goes to sleep as well, and it is just Kassandra and Brasidas still up.

The two move close, her face buried in the crook of his neck and their hands intertwined, but their voices are faint murmurs, and Phoibe falls asleep despite her best efforts to listen. 

They bid each other goodbye in the morning with a sad smile, before Kassandra moves to squeeze Nikolaus in a tight hug, a bear hug as she calls them, and Brasidas walks over to Phoibe.

“Take care of each other,” he says, grasping her arm in a Spartan farewell, and she grinned.

“I will.”

And Kassandra swings her onto Phobos and with a final grin they are off to Boeotia.

Phoibe can’t help but remark that this is the first time it has truly been just the two of them in a long time. Maybe even the first time ever, without Markos or Erinne or Nikolaus or anyone waiting for them to come back. Kassandra had smiled at that, and promised it would not be the last, and told her of all the places she wanted to take her to - once the cult was dead and gone.

Days passed, so similar yet Phoibe wouldn’t dare change a thing. They woke each morning from where they curled together against the warmth of Achilles’ side, sharing the remains of last night’s hunt or buying something in whatever town or village or house they passed. Kassandra was well loved in Megaris, and every door seemed open to them. They spent two weeks in the region, stopped so often by friends or strangers, offering their thanks or begging a favor from the Eagle Bearer. And Kassandra kept her promise, taking Phoibe with her as she raided bandit camps and tracked thieves. She left Phoibe only once, in the care of a crewmate of the Adrestia, to take care of a cultist in the port of Nisaia, but Odessa had met Stentor and Alexios, Herodotus and Barnabas, and Phoibe was happy to stay and pester the woman for stories of the family she hadn’t met, especially the far less complementary ones.

Stentor, she learned, was rather stubborn and solemn. He had little sense of humor, duty having taken root in his soul early on. But Odessa had seen his devotion to Nikolaus, the way his entire being softened around his father and newfound sister, and guessed his demeanor was a way he protected himself in the harsh world of Sparta.

Alexios was just as stubborn as Stentor, but far from solemn. Alexios was angry, full of rage and fire he could barely hold back. Odessa had been afraid of him when he first came to the Adrestia, a giant of a man with madness in his eyes who had picked up Nikolaus as if he had weighed nothing and thrown him off the deck, jumping into the sea after him to pummel him into the ground. But Alexios had pulled his father into a hug, and the two had laughed as they returned to the shore, and he was undoubtedly completely loyal to his family, Kassandra specifically.

Herodotus was quiet, and while he had been friendly with Kassandra and Barnabas, he had held them at arm’s length, a stark contrast to the easy affection the other two gave him, but he had begun to warm up to them by the time Odessa had left the Adrestia. He got along well with Nikolaus, the two often debating politics and history, and once the two had gotten into a rather spectacular drunken fist fight. He was kind to the entire crew, but far snarkier than one would have expected at first glance.

And Barnabas, Odessa could not say enough about Barnabas. The captain was loud and brash and fun, and the best damn storyteller in Greece, at least according to Odessa. He cared deeply for his crew, and even if it was clear that Kassandra was his favorite, Odessa never felt like she was any less important to the Adrestia and Barnabas himself. And while some would see his superstition and love of stories and assume him to be a paranoid old man, naive and foolish, the crew knew that his good eye missed nothing, and he could shout orders just as easily as he could tell a story. Odessa said she could see him as a man of wealth and status if he bothered to keep two feet on the shore long, but Barnabas had salt water instead of blood running through his veins.

Kassandra had returned by then, spear bloody and skin unmarred, and had drunk at least half an amphora of wine, and hummed an unfamiliar tune that Odessa seemed to know, and the two drunkenly sang about the life of a pirate before Kassandra decided it was time to sleep - by passing out on the floor.

They left Megaris the next morning, Kassandra keeping her hood up and eyes closed and trusting Phoibe to keep Phobos in the right direction. There was an abandoned watchtower they could make camp at, but it would be at least two days' ride there, likely more. Kassandra did not like to travel on normal paths, and she was especially against going any closer to Athens than she needed to, much to Phoibe’s dismay. 

But she listened to her sister as Kassandra detailed their path, and was thankful she had when the day after they left the watchtower, Kassandra let out a horrible scream of pain and slumped against Phobos neck, before sliding off his back and leaving a terrible smear of bright red blood against his mane.

Her eyes were closed, her breaths short and violent, and her skin burned to touch. Her chest had torn apart, as if someone had buried an axe in between her breasts, but there was no weapon. 

But Phoibe couldn’t worry or wonder about that, not when her sister’s blood was creating a puddle that continued to grow beneath her. So Phoibe swallowed her tears, took a deep breath, and screamed.

Then she got to work.

With the two of them riding Phobos, Achilles had allowed Kassandra to attach a second saddle bag to his back, one large enough to hold more than the essential water skins and dried jerky that had rested behind Phoibe. That bag carried a change of clothing for both of them, along with Kassandra’s beautiful red cloak, which Phoibe promptly tore to shreds. She had paid attention to the doctor that tended to Kassandra’s wounds in Korinth, and while she had no needle and thread, she cleaned the wound with the water they had, knowing there was a stream nearby she could refill the skins in, and the small bottle of wine Odessa had given them, taking only a short swig to calm herself first.

She bound Kassandra’s wounds as best she could, and used Kassandra’s leather vest to keep more pressure on her chest. She secured her sister’s pauldron across her own torso, and though it was far too big for her, she felt brave. Phobos stood patiently by as she struggled to throw her across his back, and even adjusted himself as needed when Phoibe decided that Kassandra would be far more comfortable sitting up, or at least slumped, and she moved her and tied her to him with the excess strips of Kassandra’s cloak.

But he would not let her get up behind Kassandra, and Phoibe hadn’t left room in front. He moved away with a snort everytime she tried to swing herself up and by the third time she had landed in the blood soaked dirt she yelled that he was the stupidest horse ever and she would rather walk anyway. 

So she packed the last of the things in the bag and headed towards the stream Kassandra had heard earlier, angry and scared and missing her sister. She splashed in, furiously scrubbing until her skin was no longer red with Kassandra’s blood, and changed her chiton into one less disgusting. She waited until the water ran clear once more and refilled their water skins, putting them back in the bag and returning it to Phobos’ back with an apology.

“You’re not stupid. I know you’re worried about her too. But we need to get to Thebes and a doctor and I can’t walk fast enough.”

Phobos looked at her, and tossed his head with a snort, and she felt foolish for thinking he would understand her for even a moment. It was Kassandra who could talk to beasts, not Phoibe. But then Achilles nosed at her side, from where Phobos had turned, holding a rope in his jaws.

She supposed he was the size of a small pony.

\----

Phoibe rode Achilles, Kassandra tied atop Phobos behind her, as they followed the stream. The terrain was rocky, and not wanting Kassandra to jostle too much, they went slow, hoping to find a path. That seemed the best course of action, find a road, and figure out if Thebes and Daphnae or Megara and Odessa was closer.

Of course, that would involve talking to someone, and Phoibe did not want to do that. So she did something far more dangerous - she managed to slip through a gap in the wall of a nearby fort unnoticed and overhear just enough to decide that Thebes was her best bet. Better yet, their drunken complaints about the Daughters of Artemis told her the camp was to the west of the city. She figured she could trust Daphnae more than some strange doctor, even if she had never met the huntress before.

So she slipped out unnoticed once more, thanking the gods that Kassandra was both an excellent teacher and the Spartans were drunk, celebrating a successful battle against an Athenian attack, and Phobos and Achilles went through the forest before she decided they were far enough away from the fort to make camp.

She didn’t trust herself to feed Kassandra and keep her from choking, but she was able to get her to drink some water after setting her against a tree, giving Phobos a rest. She didn’t dare light a fire either, instead curling up next to Kassandra with her bow in hand as Achilles sprawled next to her, sleeping as she kept watch.

Phoibe woke with a start late the next morning at Achilles’ growl. She rose quickly, arrow still notched in her bow from the night before and prepared to shoot, only for Achilles to chase after a hare. She relaxed, and ate her breakfast, stale bread and jerky, and waited for her wolf to return.

She had gotten Kassandra back on Phobos by the time Achilles came back, his muzzle wet and tail wagging like any dog, and then they were off once more. And if they ultimately had to turn around because Phoibe forgot where the path was, she wasn’t going to tell anyone. But Kassandra’s skin still burned as if aflame, and her hair stuck to her neck with sweat, and Phoibe urged them faster.

They stopped at a stream just past a fork in the road, and Phoibe swore she could see city walls in the distance. But her relief turned to ashes in her mouth as she overheard men not far in the trees. Spartan, at least she assumed from their accent, and tracking a massive wolf. She swallowed the last bit of water and took a moment to ensure Kassandra was safe on Phobos back before she pulled herself on the very wolf they must have been hunting. She sent Phobos off with a slap to the rump, notched an arrow, and clicked for Achilles to follow the horse. 

She heard an arrow whiz by her just as they disappeared in the trees, and a shout of surprise a moment after she loosed her own arrow. 

“A huntress!”

Her blood turned to ice. She knew from Nikolaus and Brasidas and the soldiers she had overheard just the night before that many Spartans despised the Daughters of Artemis. They would not stop hunting her now. 

She slowed Achilles just enough for her to turn on his back without sliding off, hooking her leg in the rope harness she had made, notched another arrow, and waited.

Achilles was not used to carrying her, and while Phobos and Kassandra were just out of sight, the furious Spartans were able to catch up with her while on foot. She shot one, her arrow hitting him in the thigh and sending him to the dirt. Three remained, and the closest to her threw his javelin.

It barely missed them, but Achilles swerved sharply and Phoibe was practically thrown from his back, only staying on due to her harness and her managing to grab a fistful of fur at the nape of his neck before she completely fell. Another arrow whizzed by, barely missing her head, and as she ducked, she could only watch helplessly as her quiver spilled arrows behind them. 

Another spear was thrown too, this one forcing Achilles to quickly turn and Phoibe to be thrown the other way. She righted herself, hoping with all her heart that Phobos and Kassandra were safe, and deciding to lead the Spartans away from them. 

She shot an arrow, this one missing the soldiers entirely but slowing them down, and Achilles sped up. Another caught a man in the soldier, and the group slowed even more. She might be able to lose them.

But her hopes were dashed, as the trees parted and Phobos and Kassandra were in the middle of a small group of Spartans a little farther down the stream, and a group of soldiers were running towards them. She notched two arrows, her last two in fact, and aimed at the man in front. He wore the cape of a commander, and she hoped his death would cause enough chaos for her to rescue Kassandra and run.

She took a breath, and aimed for his head and chest, hoping one would strike true, but just before she loosed her arrows, the Spartan yelled.

“Phoibe, stop!”

Her arrows sailed harmlessly into the trees to the side and Achilles dug his heels into the dirt, bringing the two to a screeching halt in front of the commander. Achilles growled at the man when he made to scratch him behind the ears, and the Spartan drew back, but not fast enough. Phoibe pulled her sword against his neck.

“You aren’t Nyx,” the man murmured, and he raised his hands in surrender as he looked at her, “But you are Phoibe, aren’t you?”

She nodded, and lowered her sword, “Stentor?”

Her new brother nodded, and his face grew grave, “What happened to Kassandra?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I got really busy and haven't been able to write as much, and this was a behemoth of a chapter planned, and very Phoibe focused. She deserved a lot more than she got in canon, and I truly can't believe Kass would have never taught Phoibe how to protect herself. But while I do archery sometimes, it's never from horseback, so I hope the physics seem like they could possibly be accurate.
> 
> As for timeline, Kassandra is wounded when Ikaros is shot down in Mykonos - and I guess you'll just have to wait and see how that turns out :)
> 
> Next up, Stentor gets to know his family and Daphnae wonders what the hell is taking Kassandra so long.

**Author's Note:**

> I do my best, but please let me know about any spelling mistakes you find.


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